


First Kiss

by ourcrashdownblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel Whump (Supernatural), Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Confused Jack Kline, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Dub-Con Touching & Kissing, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Father-Son Relationship, First Time, Forehead Kisses, Fuck Or Die, Guilty Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Jack Kline, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester Friendship, Jack Kline Whump, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Overstimulation, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Pseudo-Incest, Top Jack Kline, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourcrashdownblue/pseuds/ourcrashdownblue
Summary: After wrapping a case, Jack's body starts to break out in scary and unfamiliar sensations.  He has urges and needs that he doesn't have the words to explain...and they're all directed at Castiel.  Jack needs his father now more than ever, and Cas, Sam, and Dean will have to live with the consequences.**Tagged as 'Underage' because Jack's mental age vs. physical age is messy.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Jack Kline, Consensual Pairings, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester, Non-Consensual Pairings
Comments: 29
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

“My skin is...itchy,” Jack wiggled where he sat in the backseat of the Impala. ‘Itchy’ didn’t feel like the right word for the sensation that was bubbling beneath his skin...but what else did you call it? He felt hot all over and he was craving something, he just couldn’t figure out what. He’d tried scratching over his clothing, and when that had done nothing he’d scratched at the bare skin beneath his sleeves. He dug his blunt nails in so hard he felt a sudden sting and he was pretty sure he’d broken skin. Still no improvement. With every mile that Dean put between them and the wrapped witch case they’d left behind in Kansas City the feeling--whatever it was--seemed to be spreading throughout his body. 

“Well it’s January, the air’s just kinda dry right now,” Dean said without taking his eyes off the road, “Don’t know what to tell ya.”

Jack’s brow furrowed and he squirmed again. That was a decidedly unhelpful answer. Jack pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket. Why wouldn’t his fingers stop twitching? He blinked away the thought and checked the Maps app. The bunker was only a few hours away, but time seemed to stretch before him like pulled taffy. It was going to be a long ride if he couldn’t calm down.

The boy’s eyes were suddenly drawn to Castiel who was sharing the backseat with him. He seemed to be daydreaming (Did angels do that?), looking out the Impala’s sleek windows as rain rolled down in rivulets. Even just staring off into the distance, Jack admired how peaceful and beautiful the angel looked. How had he not noticed before? Not only was his father’s vessel more pleasing to look at than Jack had realized, but just below the surface, the soothing pulse of Cas’s grace was breathtaking. He had missed seeing Castiel’s grace ever since Lucifer had stolen his own, but by some miracle Jack realized he could feel its rhythmic thrum again. He couldn’t look away--why would he want to?

Though Cas hadn’t seemed to notice Jack staring, he glanced over when Jack started to scoot closer across the leather seat. Even the vague ghost of friction the movement gave Jack through his jeans made his breathing start to turn thready and just that split second of those icy blue eyes on him was sent pleasant tingles down to his fingertips. The feeling of his father’s presence always made his stomach feel warm and safe...but not the warmth was turning into heat. Each inch he erased between him and the angel felt like it was chipping away at whatever was sizzling in his blood and crawling beneath his skin.

A fuzziness that reminded him of TV static started to buzz through him...but it, well, seemed to be pooling. It coursed through him, concentrating and thrumming between his legs near where his penis was. No, not near it,  _ in _ it.  _ In _ his penis. Why? It didn’t feel itching anymore, though.  _ Throbbing _ . Yes, that was a better word. His penis was heavy and a dull throb pulsed throughout his body. It almost felt... _ good _ . 

It was too good all at once. Jack whimpered.

“Jack?” Cas looked down at where he was clutching his father’s hand, “Are you alright?”

Jack wasn’t sure when he’d reached out and taken Cas’s hand, but he knew that he would rather die than let go. Cas’s own brow furrowed now, worry etching into his features the longer he looked at Jack.

“I-I’m,” Jack’s tongue felt tacky against the roof of his mouth. When had that happened? “idggyy…Casshh...”

Cas’s features knitted together even more so as he turned his body to put his full attention on Jack. He reached out a gentle palm and laid it on the boy’s forehead. Jack shuddered and keened into, a tiny mewl escaping his parted lips.

“Jack, you’re burning up. And swaying. What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”

Jack wanted to answer, he really did. He wanted to smooth the worry lines from Castiel’s pretty face, but he couldn’t focus. The throbbing had eased for a moment at Cas’s touch, but now it was thundering through him. He could not reach the words he was looking for, like he was grabbing at a helium balloon that had floated just beyond his fingertips. He could only nuzzle into the touch further, licking his dry lips and squeezing his father’s hand tighter.

“Everything okay back there?” Dean called back. He simultaneously looked into the rearview mirror and turned down the Metallica tape. The sudden boom of Dean’s voice in the otherwise quiet car startled Sam where he had been sleeping with his coat rolled under his head against the window.

“Wha…” Sam muttered, dragging his fist over his eyes.

“Dean, you need to drive faster,” The angel’s voice was now edged with panic and it hurt Jack’s ears to hear. He wanted to comfort Cas, soothe Cas,  _ touch Cas _ …“Something’s wrong with, Jack--”

“I-I’m okay Ca-as...don’t worry…’m fine,” Jack wasn’t quite sure how he’d regained the capacity to speak, “Just feel warm thas allll...you smell nice, like... _ rain _ . I loooove youuu.”

Jack tried to kiss Castiel’s wrist where it hung in front of his face but missed. 

“Cas,” Dean’s voice was stern and laced with something more vulnerable, “Speak to me. What the hell’s he talking about?”

“I don’t…know...”

Castiel squinted between Jack and the kissy lips he was still making. Jack loved when Cas looked at him so intently, it made him feel...taken care of. Then again, there really wasn’t anything he  _ didn’t _ love about his father. Jack’s heart clenched under his ribs. He just loved his father so much it kind of hurt. Yes, that had to be why another ache squeezed his insides at the thought. Perhaps if he scooched closer to the angel, that would help somehow…

Cas’s hand dropped away as Jack crowded even closer, and the boy was finally able to lean forward and lay his forehead in the crook of Cas’s neck. The silky soft skin there sent another surge of fuzziness to his penis. A small, breathy moan fell out of him--he didn’t know he could make that sound. Though the aching was starting to make him squirm, all of the different tingles rippling throughout his body actually felt very nice. Why had he thought that he was itching before? How could he have been so silly? This was infinitely better than itching. 

The angel’s hand laid on Jack’s back. He recognized the instant a cool swirl of grace entered his body from where the Cas’s palm rested. The feeling was unlike any time before that he had been touched by it. This time his father’s grace felt like a sparkly river flooding his bone-dry body. He wanted  _ more _ contact,  _ more _ grace, he  _ needed _ it. He let out a rumbly, pleading sound that rose up from somewhere in his belly.

“ _ Auuhhnhh… _ ”

“What in the--what was _ that _ ?” Dean barked, the car jerking and speeding up.

Jack’s hands flew to Cas’s dress-shirt-covered flank where it was hidden under his jackets. Even when the angel tensed beneath him, Jack just pulled himself in closer.  _ More _ .

Sam looked wide-awake now in Jack’s periphery and had flipped in his seat, staring back at them. 

“Jack? Jack, buddy, what’s going on? Cas?” Sam asked, but his voice sounded whooshy and far away. Jack wasn’t quite sure if he cared what Sam was saying right now.

He felt more than heard Cas speak as the angel’s chest vibrated against his.

“S-Sam, I think…”

“What, Cas? Come on, man, spit it out!” Dean said.

When Cas gulped deeply, Jack watched in awe as his father’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He burrowed his face closer. His hand slithered up his father’s chest until he reached the knot of Cas’s skewed tie. His fingers brushed lightly over the delicate throat, Jack started panting when it suddenly felt like his lungs weren’t keeping up. His tongue swiped over his dry lips, but this close, it accidentally brushed across the goosebumps on the angel’s skin. Why did Cas taste so  _ good _ ? Jack’s eager tongue brushed the column of Castiel’s throat for another taste. The angel went rigid beneath Jack. In a flutter, Jack found himself at the opposite end of the backseat and what felt like a million miles away from his wide-eyed father.

“Uh, Cas? Oh my God...Why did Jack just  _ lick _ you?” Sam yelped.

“He _ what _ ?!” Dean jerked the steering wheel before quickly correcting, the blare of a minivan’s horn zipping past them.

Jack nearly screamed as an agonizing shudder wracked through his body. His skin, his muscles, everything burned. His  _ penis _ burned worst of all, though. He palmed himself but the rough fabric of his jeans only seemed to make the burning worse. He needed Cas. His father had made him feel so good. Why had Castiel pushed him away? What had he done wrong? He needed to make it up to him right this second!

Jack tried to clamber towards Cas, crying out and clawing at the air, but an invisible force that the angel held between them kept him permanently fixed where he was. 

“Cas!  _ Please! _ Cas!” Jack begged.

“I think--I think it’s a curse of some kind,” Cas said. Jack’s heart broke at the pain in Cas’s voice. He needed to ease that pain. Cas deserved no pain, only pleasure…

“Curse? What do you mean…?” Sam asked. Jack really didn’t care now.

Jack cried out again. He needed Cas! Why wasn’t Cas even looking at him anymore?

“I don’t know!” Cas shouted above Jack’s cries, “He--My grace does not seem to be enough to combat it, though.”

Whatever Cas had said was important. He couldn’t quite focus on the words but it had to be important. Everything Cas said was important.  _ So important _ . He wanted to hear the angel speak more, he wanted to be cradled close to his father and whispered to in that wonderful, reverberating voice of his.

Tears started to run down the boy’s face.

“Please! Please, C _ aaaa _ sss! Love you! N-Need you!” Jack’s words broke around another sob.

“  _ Jack _ ,” Hurt blossomed on the angel’s features, fists clenching and unclenching at his side like he was holding himself back. But why did he resist? He needed Cas! Why couldn’t he have him?

“ _ Please _ , Cas! Want y-you! Neee to feel...it  _ h-hurts _ , please!” Jack doubled over when a stinging new wave--more intense than before--shot through his body and straight down between his legs. 

Even through the blur of tears, Jack could see the angel’s shoulders hike up at that. He continued to fight against the air, trying to reach out and close the short but infinite space between them. His other hand cradled his sensitive, tender groin.

“Jesus!” Dean growled, and Jack felt the engine rev again, “Well, what do we do, Cas? Gimme something!”

“ _ Cas! _ ” It was the only word that seemed to rise to the surface of the mush in Jack’s aching mind.

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ is beyond your comprehension?” Cas snapped back, glaring up into the mirror, “I cannot give him what he wants!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dean barked, “But isn’t there--I don’t know--”

“Is there like a spell or something, Cas?” Sam’s voice was measured, surely trying his best to power down the screaming match.

“If there is I don’t know what it is,” Cas sighed and rubbed at his face.

“I-I can help you, Cas!  _ Wanna _ help you! Wanna m-make you feel so good…”

“Enough, Jack!” Cas’s angry tone did nothing to hide the hurt still burning in his eyes.

“Cas, it hurts! Just-Just please,  _ need _ to touch you--need  _ you _ to touch  _ me _ ...” Jack was nearly vibrating in his seat. Being so close and yet so far made him feel like flames were lapping at him from the inside out. His penis felt angry, as did the rest of his body.

With a pinched face, Cas slowly reached his hand out. He placed it gently back on the boy’s forehead. Jack whined. Cas’s hand quickly retracted at the sound before hesitantly settling in place again. Jack mewled at the relief that flowed out from the angel’s touch.

“What’re ya doing there, Cas?” Dean’s steely eyes darted frantically between the road and the rearview mirror. Cas ignored him.

“Does--Does that feel any better, Jack?” Cas’s beautiful voice was as taut as the corded forearms Jack knew were hidden beneath the trenchcoat.

“ _ Yesyesyesyes! _ ” the boy groaned.

Jack tried to reach out again since Cas had been able to but whatever force the angel was using still kept him at bay. A fresh wave of frustrated tears trailed down his cheeks.

“No, Jack,” Cas’s voice was unwavering but softer than before, “This and no more. When we get back to the Bunker we will find a spell to reverse this. I just need you to be patient and hang on. Can you do that for me? Please?

“Anything,” No truer word had ever crossed Jack’s lips, “ _ Anything _ for you, Castiel. Let me...make you feel s-so  _ good _ .”

“Christ,” Dean muttered, but the boy wasn’t really listening anymore.

^^^^^^

Jack lost all sense of time as they rode out the last of their trip--flying  _ well _ above the speed limit if the blurriness of the passing landscape was anything to go by. He had sobbed and cried out for Castiel until his throat and mouth stung, too dry to dredge up anything else. His scrambling and fighting against the force Cas kept between them slowly got harder as the heat and pain started to bind his joints in place. He writhed, limbs shaking so violently that his motor functions became anything but voluntary. The unceasing _ throb throb  _ throbbing of his body had him nearly folded in half in his seat, slumped against the invisible force--as close to his father as he could possibly be. All he could do was squeeze his eyes against all the overpowering sensations that brought silent tears to his eyes, nuzzle into the soothing touch of the hand on his forehead...and wait. 

By the time Dean glided the Impala swiftly into the Men of Letters garage, Jack wasn’t quite sure if he could move on his own anymore. He didn’t like the feeling one bit.

He whimpered into the tightly-wound air of the Impala as both Sam and Dean’s doors flew open. Sam quickly rounded the hood of the car on Dean’s heels as the hunters opened Jack’s door. 

“Just like we talked about,” Dean’s voice was gruff and he rolled his shoulders, “Ready, Cas?”

Jack found that his shivering muscles had stopped listening to him at some point, and it was only because he’d had his eyes glued to the angel the entire car ride did he see Castiel nod. If only Cas would speak again, let Jack hear that beautiful--

Jack screamed, his body was suddenly being dragged. A pair of hands on his shoulders and another pair grasping at his knees roughly drew him out his door and even farther from his father.

“ _ Stop _ ! Let me go!  _ Caaassss _ !” Jack whined, voice crackling. 

Cas flinched, but looked quickly away.

^^^^^^

It took all of Castiel’s strength not to cover his ears at the sound of Jack’s screaming. His son was in pain, seemingly drowning in it, and there was nothing Castiel could do.  _ Would _ do. He was not going to--Jack was his ward, his  _ child _ . He was not going to...touch the boy in that way. They needed to find another solution.

Sam and Dean looked to be having a difficult time holding Jack steady between the two of them. Though Jack was without his powers and weighed far less than the combined brothers, he was desperate--that much was obvious. He was throwing all of his strength into getting himself out of their clutches.

He was screaming for Castiel.

Castiel made sure to keep his distance behind the three, but he was still drawn like a magnet to his son. Even if he could not give Jack what he needed, he could at least give Jack his proximity. He could try to project all of the love and devotion his grace could muster into some kind of relief for his son. But from the way Jack continued to sob and thrash, it was doing little good.

“So, lock ‘im up...where we had Crowley...‘til we can find a cure?” Dean grunted out as he wrestled Jack’s arms down against the boy’s body to keep them from belting at him and Sam. They had reached the bottom of the staircase and angled themselves towards the hallway.

“I don’t know--” Sam began, but a sharp wail from Jack broke through the air.

“No! Please! Pleasepleaseplease!  _ Cas! _ Help me! Don’t let them take me away from you!”

“Easy, kid,” Dean’s face betrayed his exhaustion, his voice equally wounded, “I’m  _ beggin’ _ ya.”

An idea suddenly struck Castiel and he surged into.

“Dean, Sam,” He motioned over to the library desks where they’d no doubt be spending the next several hours sifting through every witchcraft book they had, “While I cannot cure him--I can hold him still. Bring him over here.”

Jack didn’t seem to register the meaning of Castiel’s words and only continued to fight the hunters as they unsteadily carried the boy over. Castiel sat in one of the chairs and angled it to face the oncoming brothers, he scooted the chair far enough from the table that Jack would not accidentally hurt himself in his thrashing. 

“Stop, Jack,” Castiel commanded when a jab from the boy’s elbow nearly knocked into Sam’s skull, “Come here.”

Jack went stock still at the sound of Castiel’s voice. He suddenly twisted in the hunters’ tangled arms to see where Castiel was sitting and waiting for him.

“CasCasCasCas!”

“Set him down,” Castiel instructed Sam and Dean, hands beckoning the boy forward who was squirming uncontrollably as though God was calling to him instead, “Trust me.”

Dean looked at Castiel warily, but set the boy down nonetheless a few feet from the angel. Jack’s feet hadn’t even hit the ground before he was trying to throw his whole body into his father. Castiel threw his grace to catch Jack before the boy could fall onto the hardwood floor. Jack was beaming at Castiel with an unwavering, unspeakable kind of joy. Castiel wanted with all of his being to accept his son’s love and admiration, but he couldn’t. Not when a horrifying shadow of absolute hunger also loomed over the boy’s features.

Before Jack could reach Castiel, the angel willed his grace to wrap around Jack, slowly binding his arms and legs in place. Frustration crashed like a tidal wave over Jack’s face as his limbs stopped cooperating.

“Cas!”

Jack nearly fell to the ground, but the angel quickly stood from the chair and caught him. Jack vibrated in Castiel’s arms, letting out heaving relieved gasps. Now that Castiel held control, he rubbed what he hoped was a soothing touch over Jack’s arms and brought his boy into an embrace.

The angel’s own shoulders sagged when he heard Jack start to sob out of joy instead of pain.

Castiel hummed as he pulled Jack’s inflexible body in closer, maneuvering his son to sit down on his lap in much the same way a parent would hold their child in a rocking chair as they read a story together.

“You’re actually gonna let him--!” Dean started.

“I’m not going to let him  _ do _ anything,” he barked at the hunter, turning his voice softer when Jack started shivering at Castiel’s harshness, “But he is in pain. And if me holding him is what it takes to ease his suffering while we search for a cure, that is what I will do,  _ Dean _ .”

Castiel ran his hand through Jack’s hair, guiding the boy’s head to rest on his shoulder--careful to keep Jack’s mouth as far from the angel’s neck as possible. Jack slumped into him, undoubtedly exhausted now that it had found some kind of respite.

“How--Why isn’t he...y’know...what he was doing in the car?” Sam asked, curiosity filling his words instead of anger like Dean.

“Jack is bound by my grace, he can only move as much as I allow,” Castiel said heavily, “I believe this is the only way to relieve some of Jack’s pain at the moment.”

“Cas... _ please _ …” Jack whimpered, nuzzling into Castiel’s shoulder.

“Shhhh,” Castiel murmured against Jack’s hair, “We will fix this, I promise. Please, just have faith Jack. Do you have faith in me?”

“ _ Yesss _ ,” Jack groaned, squirming slightly against the restraint of the angel’s grace before seeming to settle once again.

^^^^^^

Castiel did his best to focus on the large book sprawled before him, but it was difficult. 

Jack’s shivering had turned to writhing after the first twenty minutes. It was obvious that the boy’s body was experiencing some sort of hyper-withdrawal at the lack of...arousing stimulation. At the start of the writhing, Castiel had set his book to the side and wrapped his arms around Jack, hoping that would abate his suffering temporarily. Jack had nestled closer to Cas, begging him for things that made his vessel’s skin crawl. The brothers pretended not to notice, though Sam had dismissed himself to use the bathroom when Jack started to describe how much it pleasured him to taste his father. Eventually, the boy had squirmed a little less, and his sobs had died back down to whimpers. Castiel had kissed Jack’s temple once and returned to the book on Iron Age spells. He turned the pages a little faster this time.

Finally, nearly an hour after Jack had seemed to calm down, he began shaking again--but this time he was groaning and trying to grind down in Castiel’s lap. Castiel had tried to tighten his grace’s hold on his son, but any more pressure and he might accidentally break Jack’s bones. He abandoned his book entirely and drew Jack in as close as possible, using his vessel’s more gentle strength to restrain the boy. Jack’s lusty cries were interspersed with pained whimpers that made Castiel wish that he could kill that witch a second time, only less mercifully. Tears streaked down Jack’s face and soaked into Castiel’s coat as he tried to burrow even further into his father. Castiel sighed, pretending he didn’t notice his son squeezing his thighs together and palming desperately over the hard lump in his jeans.

Sam had begun pacing as he read, throwing books to the side again and again, fingers snapping through the pages in a fury. Finally, Jack barely more than a shaking ball of live nerves in Castiel’s lap, the younger Winchester slammed his open book on the table between Dean and Castiel. 

“Holy  _ shit! _ ”

“What? What’d ya got?” Dean nearly tipped out of his chair to look at whatever his brother had discovered. Castiel also leaned closer, hooking his chin over Jack’s shoulder to see.

“Okay, see this symbol…” he pointed at an ink sigil of swirled lines and interconnected triangles, “that’s the sign for a Druid curse. Well, it’s not actually meant to be a curse. It’s  _ supposed  _ to be a blessing, like a fertility spell,” Sam huffed, “I saw this same symbol in one of the open books at the witch’s place. It’s supposed to be used as a good thing, a shaman would bestow the blessing on a newly-married couples to drive them to... _ conceive _ \--”

“How the fuck does that make sense? Jack and Cas can’t--” Dean snapped his mouth shut and his face turned into a sickly palor.

“Yeah, no, I got that. Like I said, that’s what it’s  _ supposed _ to do. But...Jesus, she must’ve amped up its power or something, because  _ this _ \--” Sam gestured to their trembling son, “isn’t part of it.”

“Yeah, she must’ve juiced the hell out of this thing,” Dean’s eyes hurriedly scanned over the page and he shook his head, “This thing is just an aphrodisiac. It’s not even a full-on love spell--the bitch definitely cranked up its volume. But...what I can’t figure out is: Why  _ Cas _ ? I mean, when we got close to him it didn’t seem to have any effect.”

Both green and hazel eyes fell on the angel. Castiel shifted Jack on his lap so he could get a better look at the text. He took in the information at a lightning pace, but the brothers were right, it didn’t make sense. He absently patted a soothing hand on Jack’s arm and the boy shuddered. 

“No, I don’t understand eith--” Then Castiel’s eyes flew back to one of the first sentences again...oh. The angel sank back in his chair and an sickening sense of exhaustion swooped through him, “ _ ‘Union of souls’ _ ,” Castiel tapped the page’s horrid words, “Why me? I imagine it has something to do with this line. Jack...he’s young. The only soul cosmically connected to Jack’s--not by blood--is my own. I think the magic of the spell mistook him bonding to me whilst in the womb as--as the soulmate’s bond.”

“B-But, whoa, hold on, wait,” Sam frantically flipped a few pages back and forth in vain, “Why aren’t you, um, affected by it then, too?”

Apparently having felt a new surge of need, Jack pawed slightly at Castiel and the angel turned his full attention to the boy. Jack whined and struggled forward, trying to nuzzle at Castiel’s cheeks but was still held back by his grace.

“ _ Ca-asss _ ,” Jack croaked, teeth chattering drawing out the syllable, “Please, it hurts so  _ bad _ ,  _ urrggh _ \--” he grabbed between his legs, “….w-want your mouth...need to feel you--”

“Shhh, Jack,” Cas hummed, rocking the boy as he would an infant. He pushed a sweaty lock of dark blonde out of Jack’s eyes, “I’m so sorry, but I promise we’ll figure this out. Just focus on the sound of my voice, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Jack frantically nodded, dark and dilated eyes staring at the angel’s lips as he spoke.

Casitel turned his gaze back up to the Winchesters and ignored the looks of horror that passed between the two, Jack’s words were equally appalling to him but Jack needed them to stay focused.

“If Jack were a full angel I don’t think--I am unsure, but I don’t believe he’d be impacted by this kind of thing,” Castiel sighed, “But, without his powers, he is likely experiencing this from a fully human perspective. It’s the only reason I can think of why I am not equally impacted.” 

“Well, shit,” Dean mumbled, slouching back into the hard chair. He turned to his brother, “How do we reverse it?”

The younger Winchester sagged to his forearms on the worn dark wood of the table. He scraped his fingers through his hair but did not meet either the angel or his brother’s eye. A sensation of ice ran down his vessel’s spine. 

“It’s, uh, meant to be a blessing…” Sam finally replied, “there’s only one outcome that will satisfy it.”

“Nuh-uh, fuck that,” Dean shot up and out of his seat, taking up Sam’s earlier pacing, “ _ No _ . Not happening.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sam sighed, rubbing at the bags under his eyes, “This thing does still work like an aphrodisiac. Jack is still experiencing all of the physical symptoms--”

“Oh, I think we all saw just how fucking  _ physical  _ Jack was getting--”

“Dean! Shut up for five seconds and listen to me,” Sam barked. Castiel could not call to mind a time he’d seen the younger Winchester truly angry--frustrated and mad, yes, but never to this degree, “What are the physical symptoms of an aphrodisiac, huh? Increased heartrate, nervous system overload, a-and dilated... _ everything _ ! A human body can handle all of that stuff in small doses, but not at whatever kind of dog-in-heat levels this thing is working at! And certainly not indefinitely!” Sam’s shoulders suddenly deflated and his eyes fell back to the floor, “We have no idea how much of this Jack’s body can tolerate. Or if it will ever wear off. This could  _ kill him _ , Dean.”

“Not happening, Sammy,” Dean squared his shoulders and glared at his brother as though this was all caused by Sam being incompetent, “He’s just a kid! We’ll find another way! Tell him, Cas!”

Castiel opened his mouth but was swiftly cut off by the younger Winchester. He glowered between the hunters. Jack started shaking again so the angel smoothed down the soft hairs at the nape of his son’s neck. Revulsion, and guilt, and anger warred in his being. He clutched Jack closer, loosening his grace enough to let Jack burrow into the crook of his neck. He pushed down the curl of panic that wrapped around him when the boy’s tongue started to lap at his skin. Jack sagged in relief.

“It’s not even a real spell. There’s nothing  _ to _ reverse,” Sam threw his arms up, “It’s a blessing! That’s like trying to return a crappy gift to the store without the receipt. It  _ doesn’t _ work! Look at him, Dean! He’s in  _ pain _ ! And the longer we put this off the worse he’d gonna get!”

The older hunter didn’t let his eyes stray to either Castiel or Jack, instead he resolutely dug his heels in the ground and crossed his arms.

In a low growl, the older Winchester said, “Over my  _ dead body _ .”

“No!” Castiel suddenly snapped, “It would be over  _ Jack’s _ dead body, Dean.”

The brothers both unconsciously took a step back when Castiel let his grace flash a blinding blue in his eyes. Good, at least he had their undivided attention now. Castiel let the glow fade away and turned his gaze directly onto the taller of the two.

“Sam, are you sure that this will relieve Jack’s suffering? Stop him from dying? If we...consummate the bond?” Castiel steeled his features.

Sam hardened his own brow and firmly nodded, “Yes.”

“And there is no way to break the blessing’s magic…?”

The younger Winchester hesitated but finally sighed, looking at his friend with sorrowful hazel eyes, “At the rate this thing is hurting Jack...we don’t have time to find out.”

“But--” Dean let his sentence hang in the air, unfinished, when the angel held up his hand.

“Then…” Castiel held his son impossibly tighter, “It looks as if there is only one path ahead of us.”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel had always thought that shame was a strictly human emotion, intended to keep God’s creation on the righteous path in a world riddled with pitfalls. He’d long since realized that that was not the case. A mere decade’s worth of time as an individual independent of God’s army and the host of mistakes and destruction he’d left behind in his time on Earth had taught him that shame was a powerful emotion in all beings. Castiel had never felt a shame so painful as he did now, looking down at his son’s naked body sprawled out on the bed, waiting to be defiled.

After saying his piece, Dean and Sam had solemnly walked Castiel and their boy to Jack’s room in utter silence. Internally, Castiel had debated which of their rooms to conduct this horrifying task in. Castiel, in the end, had picked Jack’s room in the hope that the boy would be more comfortable in the familiar environment. And when Jack was cured he would be able to fall asleep in his own bed. Dean had fumbled through a question about the need for lubricant when they finally arrived at the boy’s door, but Castiel had assured both of them that he would use his grace if it came to that. The angel still held out hope that less... _ invasive _ actions might still be able to cure Jack--though it was a threadbare hope at best. Then it was time for the brothers to let him and Jack be. Castiel had expected them to ‘tuck tail’ and leave as soon as possible. Instead, both Sam and Dean had turned on their heels slowly, heads hanging in defeat but still feeling the pull to try to protect the boy, to rescue him from his fate--from Castiel. A jagged part of Castiel wanted to scream at them to stop all of this somehow, to find one of their infamous loopholes and spare both Jack and the angel this pain. 

But that was not an option, so he watched them continue to walk to the end of the hall. Castiel could meet neither of the eyes looking at him over their shoulders, especially when he saw the younger Winchester try to brush at red eyes without being noticed.

Soon after they’d left, Castiel had carried Jack to his bed and set him down on the soft comforter. Jack had shrieked when the angel had to pull away. Castiel had made as quick of work taking his son’s clothes off as his trembling hands would allow. Jack sobbed and struggled against the restraint of Castiel’s grace, rabid for any contact. Castiel had removed his own clothing in mere moments--deciding to remain in his boxers--and found that he didn't have any more excuses to delay; now was the time of his reckoning.

“Jack?”

Dark, watery, trusting eyes gazed up at Cas, fluttering and squinching shut as more shivers wracked through his body.

“ _ Caaaas... _ ” Jack rasped.

“I am going to release you from my grace in a moment, but,” Jack whimpered, “I--you will get what you need from me, but you need to _ tell _ me what that is. Do you understand?”

Jack was nodding before the angel had hardly finished his sentence.

“Yesyesyes, please--anything you want, Castiel...Need you--give you everything, Cas--”

“And, if at any time you feel pain you need to tell me. I will not be at all angry, what  _ I _ want most in all of the universe is not to harm you. Understood?” Though harming his son was exactly what he was about to do.

Jack whined and nodded once again, “Yes, Cas--please, Cas...it  _ hurts _ …”

Castiel slowly sank his knees into the bed, lowering down to hold himself over top of Jack. He released his grace’s hold. 

Instantly, wobbly arms circled Castiel’s bare torso, soon followed but nearly-hairless thighs wrapping around his waist.

“  _ Ca--astiel  _ !” Jack moaned as he pulled the angel flush to him, “Love you, Cas! Love you so, so, so,  _ so, so much _ !”

The angel allowed himself to be enveloped in his son’s searing, unnaturally hot body. Castiel reminded himself again that this was for Jack, for his very life, when he felt the boy’s pulsing erection slide against the groove of his hip. Even so, the thought did little to stop despair from tearing a hollow void right through his center.

^^^^^^

For the first time in hours, Jack’s body felt nearly whole. Cas, his perfect, beautiful Cas was a soft weight on top of him. It was marvelous. The needles and prickling in his skin had smoothed out to tingles as soon as the angel’s bare chest had touched Jack’s. His nipples had hardened from the sensation, too.

Jack ran his hands in rhythmic motions all over the bare skin on top of him. Fingers kneading olive shoulders, smoothing down his spine, squeezing slim hips, extending his fingers through Cas’s dark hair. Repeat. Jack nearly lost himself in the flow of it, and he would’ve loved to hold his father so close and soft for hours on end...but even though the pain in his skin had faded, the ache between his legs had not. Like the most awful itch in his brain, Jack rubbed and rubbed and rubbed his penis against the silky skin of Cas’s belly. It helped a little, but not nearly enough.

Jack whimpered and Castiel rose up to settle his weight on the forearms bracketing the boy’s head.

“Jack,” his angel’s rumbly voice almost tickled Jack’s skin with the way he buzzed against him, “What do you need of me?”

Jack wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. He knew his body wanted Castiel’s, needed it more than he needed food or water or...well, anything else really. But that didn’t really answer his father’s question. Jack nuzzled his temple against the angel’s stubbly cheek, melting into the feeling. He wanted more of this for sure, more touching, more squeezing, more rubbing. His hips thrusted harder, but that only made his penis more angry. Jack could hardly tell Cas what he wanted from him when he wasn’t even sure what his own body wanted from him. He just didn’t have the words, not the right words at least.

“Wanna--want you, Cas,  _ urrrghh _ …” Jack wracked his muddy brain for any frame of reference for his feelings but found none, “More, please, Cas, please...dunno how--just need _ more _ …” 

He tried thrusting harder, but a tight, painful cramping in the body part behind his penis made him gasp and freeze in place. The white hotness of the ache oozed out of him and made his eyes sting once he felt like he could take deep breaths again. This wasn’t working, it was hopeless. 

How was it possible he could feel all alone when Castiel was right there? Jack gripped tightly on Cas’s biceps and tried to hide his face in his angel’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Castiel’s reassuring hand came up and ran firm fingers through his hair again, Jack keened into it. Jack loved when he did that, “I’m here, I will care for you just as I said. C’mere,” Castiel turned Jack’s head to look up at him, smoothing knuckles over his cheek, “We’ll do this together, alright?”

Jack nodded and pushed into his angel’s hand and Castiel kissed his forehead.

“Love you, Cas, love you so much…” Jack mumbled on a shaky exhale.

“I know, Jack. I love you, too,” Castiel pulled back to look at the boy, “How about you describe what kind of pain you are feeling and I will try to think of a solution?”

Cool swirls of relief wound through Jack’s body at the words and he felt himself take his first deep breath in nearly an hour. He didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

“I...I feel an ache between my legs,” Jack gave a tiny demonstrative thrust and winced at the little zap of pain, “It hurts in my penis...but also feels good sometimes. Usually at the  _ same _ time.”

Castiel swallowed thickly.

“And...” the angel cleared his throat, “rubbing yourself against me is not relieving that pain?”

Jack shook his head, “It feels nice for a second...but then it hurts even worse,” Jack frowned at the furiously red traitor between them and another frustrated tear slid down the side of his face, “How can it want to be touched and  _ not  _ want to be touched at the same time?”

Instead of answering, his father followed Jack’s gaze between them at the organ in question. When he looked back up, his eyes stayed on Jack’s hair and not his mottled face.

“I am going to try something, Jack,” Castiel’s words were clipped but his voice wrapped around Jack like a blanket nonetheless, “Remember: if the pain becomes worse tell me immediately. Yes?”

Jack nodded.

The hand that had been at his cheek snaked down between their bellies, a cool touch despite the damp warmth in the room. The boy didn’t have much chance to wonder what exactly Castiel wanted to try when thick, trembling fingers curled around his hardness.

But Jack didn’t feel pain...he felt  _ unbelievable _ bliss.

“ _ Ca-asss! _ ” his breath caught as he screamed. The relief of his father’s hand was almost blinding to Jack’s brain. Yes! This was exactly what he needed! How had he not realized? Of course it was Castiel’s touch that would soothe the ache between his legs! The angel’s entire body felt like ice cold water being dumped onto Jack’s roaring fire. Once again, Castiel was caring for Jack, protecting him--this time, from his own defiant body. 

The boy gasped and threw his head back as the angel’s hand tightened in resolve and started slow, steady strokes around his penis. This was even better than the first time Jack had tasted nougat! Jack squeezed around Castiel’s shoulders and buried his face back in the angel’s neck, lapping at the soft skin there between the noises that felt like they were punched out of him, “ThankyouThankyouThankyou.”

Jack’s hips bucked further into Castiel’s grasp, chasing the angel’s hand on every upstroke. 

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Castiel murmured, lips speaking into Jack’s matted hair like a moving kiss.

Even as chilly calm coursed through Jack’s veins, the dull throbs started to chip away at those oh-so nice feelings again.

“No, no, no!” he picked up the pace of his thrusts, trying to chase the quickly fading relief Castiel’s hand offered until the stroking only made him feel sore and raw once more, “No! Cas,  _ uhhhh... _ ” Jack wanted to howl in frustration but it felt like he’d swallowed a golf ball and only an angry moan spilled out. Castiel’s hand flew from his body and Jack’s hips jerked to a stop.

“Jack? Jack! What’s wrong?” The hand that Castiel had been working Jack with came up to cradle the boy’s face. Why was it all sticky? Jack whimpered and looked between them and saw that a cloudy wetness was slathered all over his penis and between their bellies. He wanted to ask his father why he seemed to be leaking that stuff, but a small wave of nausea rolled through him and dashed the thought from his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut against it until it died back down, “Jack, answer me.”

“Not...not enough--not gonna be…” Jack drew in a crackling breath and another sob wracked its way up from his lungs, “N-Not enough, Cas...I can feel it...need more--”

Words fell away from Jack. What did he need more of? He knew he wanted Cas to touch him between his legs again because, even though it started to feel bad, it only hurt worse without the gentle stroking. He squrimed and hugged Cas tighter. Jack kind of wished that his penis could talk right now and tell him what it wanted so he could be done guessing. This guessing game was far from fun.

“Pl-Please touch me again, Cas, please,” the boy stutters, “It h-hurts, please…”

Jack shivered when Castiel’s hand returned to his hardness. Then, his father was whispering in his ear again.

“I’ve got you,” Cas sighed against his temple, his lazy strokes starting back up, “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out.”

“Just tell me what to do, Cas, please, just tell me what to do…” Jack mumbled into the angel’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” Cas pulled back to wipe away the fresh tears that ran down Jack’s cheek with his free hand, “Don’t worry about the words, just tell me what sounds like it would feel good? When I touched you with my hand, that seemed to make the pain go away for a little bit, right?” Jack nodded, “So just tell me: What about that felt good?”

Maybe this was a question Jack could actually answer. He let his eyes fall shut to block out at least one of his senses that threatened to drive him crazy. He focused on Cas’s fingers gently brushing his hair out of his face.

“I...I like feeling so close to you,” Jack opened his eyes and saw the angel’s beautiful, though slightly glassy, blue gaze looking at him like he was all that mattered, “It felt really good to have you touch me. But  _ this _ \--it isn’t enough. I can--I can feel it in my bones, Cas,” Jack snuffled, “It’s like I want to be closer to you...but we’re already so close together that that doesn’t make sense. I want to be a part of you--almost like I could hug you so tightly that my body and--and your body get so squished together and we just become one body instead. But that’s not even possible so how…”

Castiel looked pale and Jack thought it was probably the first time he’d ever seen his father change color like that. 

“I--” Castiel’s throat seemed to catch on the words before he pressed on, “I am going to try something, Jack. And just like last time--”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts too much,” Jack quickly finished, his anxiousness already starting to ebb away. What Cas had ‘tried’ last time had felt incredible, maybe whatever he was going to try now would do the trick. Anything to make his body less angry at him.

Cas examined Jack’s features for one more moment, though Jack was not sure what he was looking for, growing impatient with every sharp pulse. His father began to pull back and out of Jack’s arms and the boy felt tendrils of panic start to creep in. Why was Cas pulling away? Was he going to leave? But he’d promised he’d take care of Jack, had he just been lying? 

Jack whimpered and tried to reach for Cas but the angel had already sunk low enough to be at eye-level with the boy’s groin. Jack’s fear was momentarily pushed aside in confusion. What was Cas doing down there--?

All at once the air was slammed out of Jack’s lungs as Castiel took Jack into his mouth. Jack wanted to cry again, but only a choked gasp made it out of him. Pain and a scary, weird, mind-numbing feeling seemed to battle for control of his body. It felt like his blood had been replaced with electricity. He did not like this _ at all _ .

“  _ Fuck! _ ” The word ripped out of his throat. It was a word he’d heard Dean use before and now he understood why he did, it seemed to be the only word that fit. His spasming hands flew down to Castiel’s head and he grabbed the angel’s hair to tear the overwhelming mouth away, “ _ Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch! _ ”

Cas pulled off immediately with a wet pop. Air crashed back down into Jack’s chest. He didn’t have time to recover, however, when a new searing bolt of pain flashed through his penis and felt like a hammer slamming on his ribcage.

The blurred edges of his vision took forever to fade away, and when they did Jack found his father’s terrified eyes right above him once again, “Jack, are you okay?”

Jack didn’t even have the lung capacity to cry this time and could only grab at Castiel until his father was draped back over him like a weighted blanket. Sharp pain squeezed under his stomach and through his penis in waves. He wanted to die.

“Toooooo…” Jack’s face felt numb and the words wouldn't come out.

Castiel’s hand slid between them again and he warily touched the tips of his fingers to Jack’s hardness, “I need you to take deep breaths, Jack. Can you do that for me?” 

Jack shuddered at Castiel’s cool hand and pushed through another wheezing breath, trying his hardest to slow down. The strokes were gentle but firm, the pain began to flutter back down to the dull aching from before. Jack nodded and let his eyes fall shut. He pictured the air moving in and out of his lungs. In...and out. In...and out. The angel’s fingers wiped sweat from his brow and Jack leaned into the touch, opening his eyes.

“How do you feel now?” Cas asked.

“I feel...better,” Jack’s hips give a few weary thrusts into his father’s hand. It took a little bit of the edge off.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Jack let out a slow exhale, “Well...when you touch me with your hands it feels really nice and makes everything hurt less. But when you put your mouth on me…”

“Yes?” Castiel himself seemed to squirm.

“Is it possible for something to feel so... _ amazing _ that it hurts?”

Cas huffed out a laugh that sounded far from happy.

“Yes, Jack. Sometimes bodily sensations, even those that are pleasant, can be overwhelming. I had that experience sometimes when I was human. Is that how it felt? Overwhelming?”

Jack felt a tiny grin pull at the corners of his lips. His father was so smart.

“Exactly. It was too...surprising.”

“But it did feel good?”

“...I think so, yes.”

“How about this,” Castiel kept up his rhythmic strokes but started to shuffle backwards again from where he sat on the boy’s thighs, “we will go slowly this time. I’ll tell you everything I am going to do before it happens so that nothing ‘surprises’ you. Is that okay, Jack?”

Everything in Jack’s body felt raw and he wanted all of the hurt to go away  _ right this instant _ . The thought of going slow was agonizing all on its own. But Jack trusted his father, so he nodded and tried his best to smile again.

“Will you...hold my hand this time, though?” Jack asked. He is rewarded with his favorite of Castiel’s sixteen very small but very different smiles; this one reminded Jack of sunshine.

Cas took Jack’s hand in his own and gave it a reaffirming squeeze. Jack knew what that squeeze secretly meant.  _ I love you. _ It’s the same squeeze the angel gave Dean and Sam’s shoulders sometimes, but only Jack seemed to understand its true meaning.

As his father continued to draw down Jack’s body, he kept his eyes on every movement of Jack’s face. 

“I am going to touch your chest, is that alright?”

Jack nodded.

Castiel dipped his head as he moved, placing a zig-zagging line of kisses across Jack’s chest that started at his heart and ended over his belly button. It kind of tickled. 

“Did that feel okay?”

A happy sigh left Jack and he felt like he was melting into the mattress. How could kisses like that not feel okay? He smiled at Castiel and for a split second, he almost forgot about the soreness in his burnt-out body.

“Yes, Cas.”

“Good,” the angel settled himself on his belly between Jack’s legs. Jack could already feel his muscles tightening up, ready to squirm away from the hot breath ghosting near where Castiel’s hand continued to caress him, “Now, I’m going to use my tongue and just lightly touch you. Okay?”

Jack braced himself, furrowing his brow, but nodded.

Cas slowed his stroking hand to a stop at the bottom of Jack’s penis, tilting it up to his mouth. He kissed the tip and seemed to guage the boy’s reaction. Pleasant tingles radiate out from the kiss; Jack hummed. Castiel was right, this was so much better.

Jack squeezed his father’s hand, urging him to continue.

Castiel’s pink tongue slid out between slightly chapped lips, placing a few wary licks along the part of Jack’s hardness that his hand wasn’t covering. Jack moaned and stifled a giggle, this tickled, too. 

“M-More, please, Castiel,” Jack asks softly, “Feels so nice…”

“Are you sure?”

Jack nodded again, more emphatically this time. There was nothing he wanted more in the entire universe, “Please, I’m ready, Cas...So, ready…”

“Alright,” the angel sighed, bringing their joined hands to rest on Jack’s belly. Cas’s thumb stroked the smooth skin there, “I’m just going to put the very tip in my mouth first, okay?”

“Thank you, Cas,” Jack let his head fall back and relax as the angel’s soft lips perched on the tip of his penis, just resting there a moment before sliding open. Castiel’s mouth was so unfathomably warm that it almost burned as he suckled. Jack nearly reared back, but took another deep breath and closed his eyes instead. The pain felt so much more distant this time, like a stomach ache or a papercut--the kind of pain a person can mostly ignore. Jack felt a spasm in his hips that made him want to thrust upward into the wet heat, but did his best to hold himself down. For the first time in hours Jack felt like the pain and bliss had called a truce. There were no exploding blossoms of pleasure, nor any unbearable throbs that doubled him over; Jack almost felt normal.

The desire to thrust up into the angel’s mouth was almost too hard to hold back. Jack looked down at the sight between his legs. Cas was beautiful and amazing like this, something otherworldly in the bright blue of his eyes. Jack’s stomach flip-flopped in a way that didn’t hurt but made him feel a little dizzy instead. He wound his free hand in his father’s dark wavy hair, pressing slightly but trying not to. Castiel seemed to feel the silent urging though, and hesitated before sinking his mouth down another few inches.

A deep rumbly groan bubbled out of Jack’s chest that reminded him of a bear’s roar. He curled his fingers even tighter in the Cas’s hair.

“P-Please more…” Jack whimpered.

This time Castiel didn’t hesitate and slid the remaining length into the tight cavern of his mouth. Jack’s own mouth fell open in a muted cry. The balance in his body dissolved into a feeling Jack could only describe as  _ sparkly _ . Was this what it would feel like to eat glitter? No, nothing could possibly feel  _ this _ good.

“L-Love this, Cas...love you!” Jack cried, losing control of his jerking hips, “So, so  _ good... _ !”

Castiel hummed in acknowledgement around Jack and the vibrations pulled another throaty groan from his lips. The angel’s cheeks hollowed out all of a sudden and Castiel’s mouth became tight tight _tight_ , fiery tongue stroking all on its own. Jack screamed, squeezing his father’s hand and pushing down harder on Cas’s head. His pain seemed like a distant memory now. Yes, this was exactly what his body wanted! No wonder his rubbing and Castiel’s hand hadn’t satisfied his aching hardness when it somehow knew _this_ was possible. This felt like happiness and love and insanity all wrapped up in one incredible act. Who would’ve imagined that a mouth could be so useful at something that wasn’t eating or talking? Why hadn’t he known this existed before? Did other people just _not_ _realize_ this could be done? He would’ve asked Castiel to do this to him a long time ago if someone had just told him.

“Caaass…?” Jack felt something strange twisting in his lower belly, it wasn’t a bad feeling but it was certainly new, “Cas, I--why i-is there pressure in my stomach? No, n-not my stomach...it’s lower than that. A-And I can feel my heartbeat in my penis…?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed in confusion as he continued bobbing his head in time with Jack’s thrusts. The pressure continued to mount and the now-pleasant throbs made him shiver. Jack felt heavy and thick between his legs, like all of his body’s blood was pooling there. He tried to chase the sensation with deeper thrusts, the spongy tip of his penis hitting the back of the angel’s throat.

“ _ Cas… _ ?” Jack whimpered because the pressure wasn’t going away, it was getting worse. His whole body felt like tight--a stretched rubber band that needed to be released. He squirmed under the angel, not quite sure if he wanted more or less of what Castiel was doing. It felt so good but that scratching, clawing  _ not enough _ feeling was rising up again and Jack was nearly ready to give up and just let the pain eat him alive.

Jack forced his grip to loosen in Cas’s hair as the angel pulled off, wincing when his flushed, ache-y penis flopped onto his stomach. His hips spasmed in place, bucking into nothing before stuttering to a stop. Castiel’s hand replaced his mouth to gently stroke the tender organ.

“It’s still n-not enough, Cas!  _ W-Why isn’t it enough? _ ” Jack shook as hot tears stung his eyes, “It  _ hurts _ ...p-please, Cas, please make it just  _ stop! _ ”

“Shhh,” Castiel unclasped their hands and wiped away the sweat that dripped down Jack’s temple. His hand slid down to cup Jack’s jaw, thumb smoothing over the tear tracks on his cheekbone, “I have one more thing we could try--”

“It won’t--it won’t  _ work _ , Cas!  _ Nothing _ works! It all j-just hurts worse! A-And now-- _ Cas _ , now my whole stomach feels  _ tight _ and I just w-want it to go away!” Jack cried, trying to bury himself in his father’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Castiel pulled him closer and let his boy heave out wet, shaky gasps against his collarbone, “But please trust me. This is another...penetrative act that I think might satiate the spell, but I need you to have faith in me. Can you please,  _ please _ trust me once more?”

All of the momentary fight disappeared from Jack’s body as quickly as it had appeared. He didn’t have the energy to fight anything anymore, and Cas was his father...surely, if there was anyone Jack had faith in it was Castiel.

Jack solemnly nodded, letting Cas manhandle him into a new position. His father took his place on the bed, turning them over so that Jack was now lying between Cas’s splayed legs. He watched the angel remove his boxers with what little curiosity he could muster. Castiel’s penis was not like Jack’s, he noted. It was a darker color and soft, not veiny and mad-looking. It flopped heavily against the angel’s hip as he laid back. 

Cas’s smooth hand went back down to calmly stroke the boy, his other arm reaching out, “C’mere, Jack.”

Jack sank into the comfort of his father’s arms. He draped himself over Cas’s body, leaving a little space between their hips for his hand to keep its rhythm. Jack let out a deep breath, trying to will his own heartbeat to match his Castiel’s. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to take a nap. Maybe Castiel would take a nap with him when this was done?

“W-What do we do now?”

Cas ran a hand over Jack’s back, voice rumbling in Jack’s ear, “Just relax, I’ll take care of this part.”

Jack felt Castiel moving his penis away from their bellies which was certainly new, shifting it between them but Jack couldn’t figure out why. Cas’s hand lifted Jack’s hip up and, suddenly, the tip of his penis was caressing something hot and wrinkled and soft. His first instinct was to jerk away from the strange feeling and he rose up, palms bracketing Cas’s head.

“What are you doing?”

“Since using my mouth did not cure you, I believe that the only sexual act that will appease the blessing is anal penetration,” Castiel replied, voice strained but gentle like he was talking to a baby animal.

“Wait,” That itched something in Jack’s brain, “‘Sexual’? What…?”

Cas’s hand movements froze and he changed color again, “Oh...Jack…” Castiel’s lip quivered.

“Are you--” the pieces were snapping into place Jack’s head and his jaw gaped, “Wait, is this--are we having  _ the sex _ ?” The angel’s eyes finally squeezed shut like he could hardly stand to look at Jack and the boy immediately felt guilty. He lightly tapped his father’s cheek, knuckles running along his stubble like Cas had done for him, “Hey, hey, please don’t be mad, Cas…”

The angel sniffled and finally opened his eyes.

“I-I’m not mad at you, Jack,” Cas’s eyes were rimmed in red and it terrified Jack. He’d never seen his father cry before, “I promise. I just...I’m  _ so _ sorry.”

The angel shuddered beneath him and the aura of his grace fluttered in a brilliant pain.

“Why are you sorry?” Jack frowned, “ It’s my penis’s fault. It’s what’s hurting me, not you…?”

Castiel huffed out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He ran his hand through Jack’s hair again and the boy automatically nuzzled into the touch.

“Let’s just finish this, shall we?” Castiel sighed softly. Jack nodded and leaned down to kiss Castiel’s forehead; forehead kisses always made him feel better, so maybe they’d soothe Cas, too. Castiel’s slightly shaky hand gripped Jack’s length tightly again, moving it back down between the angel’s legs to the puckered skin, now all wet and slippery.

Jack stilled his hips, he looked down between them and felt his eyes widen into two moons.

“But...aren’t things, y’know, only supposed to come  _ out _ of there--not go _ in _ ?” he asked, whispering the last part.

An amused glimmer twinkled in his father’s eye and Jack would’ve given anything to see Cas genuinely smile right then. But the angel spoke instead.

“Ususally, yes, but this is one other use for this particular orifice,” Jack accepted the answer though it still felt funny in his head, “I’m going to guide you inside of me now, okay? You can move as much or as little as you want, just make sure you keep taking deep breaths and try not to overwhelm yourself. Understand?”

“Will it hurt you at all?” He didn’t want to hurt his father, not ever. Not even if it stopped his own agony. This hole just seemed too tight and small compared to Jack’s swollen penis. The thought of sinking into the angel made his stomach feel sick and fluttery at the same time. How was that possible?

“No, my grace will help me accommodate you and reduce friction. I promise, you will not harm me at all,” Cas squeezed his shoulder.  _ I love you. _

Jack nodded. The next second Jack’s thighs and arms shook where he held himself up as the tightest, most searing hot thing in the world enveloped him. All his senses failed to translate the sensation and a jumble of noises and half-words spilled out from his slack lips. Castiel was velvety soft on the inside and held his penis so perfectly, as if their bodies had been made to fit together like puzzle pieces. Castiel was the peanut butter to Jack’s jelly. He would’ve chuckled at the thought in any other circumstance--instead he moaned, long, low vibrations in his chest.

His muscles seized, plowing his hips forward into the angel’s blazing heat. After that Jack’s body seemed to rip control away from his mind. He collapsed onto his forearms, balancing on Cas’s chest, lower body pumping into his father.

“ _ CasCasCasCaaaassss! _ ” Jack howled, pace clumsy but brutal.

“It’s alright, you’re doing so well,” Cas wrapped his steadying arms around the boy’s shaking shoulders, “Such a good job, Jack. It’s all going to be okay.”

Cas’s voice echoed in his ears like the angel was shouting from across an ocean. He felt dizzy and like there wasn’t enough blood in his brain and too much pulsing in his penis and--he’d never felt so  _ alive _ . He looked down between them, where his hardness slipped in and out of Cas. He slid a tentative hand down to touch where they were connected, being gentle as he fingered along the angel’s stretched skin. He shivered and picked up speed.

That pressure had started to swell the moment he entered Cas, filling like a water balloon in his belly. The aching turned to that pleasant throbbing he’d felt in when his father had swallowed around him. But this time Jack could feel an edge approaching. Whatever invisible force had screamed for more and was unsatisfied before, well, it sure seemed satisfied now.

“ _ Yes! Cas! _ ” Jack cried. It was working! This was a bone deep feeling, too, he was going to be able to reach whatever finish line he was hurtling towards...but that was also kind of a problem. The pressure wasn’t hitting any walls, rising beyond what he’d felt before. A popcorn bag was sitting low in his hips, quickly filling up, about ready to burst.

Fear was battling with the impulse to keep going. It felt like his soul was going to explode through his pores if he didn’t stop. What if he really was going to explode? What if he popped like a bubble gum burst? Blood and guts and bone would go flying everywhere--

Jack tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. This was beyond overwhelming, but he didn’t want Cas to make him stop either. It was too  _ too  _ much but he  _ needed _ more! 

He let his arms go limp at his sides and buried his face in his father’s neck. Cas’s hands were ice cubes on his sweaty back.

“Cas?” he whimpered, “What’s,  _ unnnhhh _ , what’s happenin’ t-to…?”

“It’s alright, Jack. Just let go,” Cas murmured against Jack’s ear, “I promise you’re going to be alright. You’re being so brave...”

The pressure reached a sudden spike and Jack knew that he’d reached some point of no return. He jerked up, clutching at Castiel’s shoulders and staring down into his father’s ocean blue eyes.

Words wouldn’t latch together in any coherent way. His entire body felt like it was dropping from the top of a ten-story tower, plummeting into the unknown. The pressure reached its peak and Jack dove forward, locking his lips onto Castiel’s as the world fell apart around him. 

Hot spasming waves of something  _ so so good _ burst through him--like his entire body was one big beating heart  _ thump thump _ thumping in place. Mind-numbing tingles that reached all the way down to his toes sloshed through him, making him shake and press even closer into his father. He scrabbled for solid ground but it was all just light and sound and color--and then sparkling darkness as his eyes squeezed shut.

^^^^^^

Jack swayed and trembled above Castiel, and the angel reached out to keep the boy from toppling over. His eyes were rolled back in his head until snapping shut. His son’s hips made quick, stuttering thrusts that were weak and anything but voluntary. With a wet gasp, Jack crumpled forward into the angel’s waiting arms. His son was shaking against his chest, arms constricting like snakes around him.

Ninety seconds of Jack’s silent trembling went by before Castiel felt his eyelids flutter open again. The last of the shivering stopped and Jack’s even-temperatured body seemed to melt on top of him. The boy’s eyes were glazed over and half-lidded as they looked up to meet Castiel’s. A gummy, gap-toothed grin slowly took over Jack’s face as he seemed to get lost staring back at the angel.

“Jack? How do you feel?” Castiel finally asked. Jack giggled and opened his mouth to answer, smacking his tongue like he’d gotten peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth (again). A clumsy hand came up to rest in the dip of Castiel’s throat, thumb stroking over the skin there, “Jack?”

“Cassh…” Jack laughed again at his own slurring. He shook his head and tried to blink his eyes back into focus, “I feel...I feel good.  _ Really _ good. Like I-I’m flying.  _ Whoosh! _ ”

The angel’s brow furrowed deeper.

“Are you still in pain?”

“Pain?” Jack looked at him incredulously, like he actually couldn’t remember ever having felt pain in his entire life.

“Yes. Are your gentials still in pain?”

Jack squinted at Castiel in a way that oddly reminded the angel of himself. The hand resting on his neck rose slowly, the tip of Jack’s index finger suddenly tapped Castiel’s nose, “Boop.”

The boy burst into a fit of giggles and Castiel finally felt the tightness in his chest begin to loosen.

“I take it that means you’re fine,” Castiel breathed, swiping a strand of hair off Jack’s sweaty forehead.

Castiel began to untangle Jack’s limbs from his own. The boy obviously needed his sleep and the angel knew that when the swell of relief faded he would have his own avalanche of emotions to contend with--and that is something best done in private. His vessel's stomach was starting to ache.

The boy whimpered as soon as Castiel started to slide off of Jack’s softening penis. Castiel halted, alarm bells started ringing in his mind.

The boy’s face turned from sad to shocked in an instant when he looked down between their joined bodies.

“Jack what’s wrong--”

“Stopstopstop!” Jack gripped Castiel’s retracting hips, holding him still half-speared. His wide blue eyes darted back up to Castiel, mouth slack and horrified.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” Castiel cupped his son’s flushed face in his hands.

“I--” Jack gulped, cheeks turning a dark pink, “I think I... _ urinated _ in you, Cas…”

The angel followed Jack’s eyes and saw that Jack’s ejaculate had started leaking out of him. The sight made his knees weak and his stomach roll but he huffed out a relieved breath nonetheless, “No, no, Jack you didn’t urinate in me. That is semen, it’s what your body releases when you reach sexual climax.”

“And that’s...not bad?”

Cas shook his head ‘no’ even though every part of this felt  _ lightyears _ beyond bad. But that wasn’t Jack’s fault.

Jack’s loose, floatiness didn’t return. The boy’s lucid gaze met Castiel’s, and his lower lip trembled slightly.

“Cas? What...what just happened?”

Castiel couldn’t think of anything that even resembled a right answer to that question. Was there even a right answer? How could he explain any of this to his son? Jack hadn’t even realized that this was his first sexual experience until Castiel had already stolen his innocence.

“I...I don’t know, Jack,” Castiel responded honestly.

“W-Why do I feel...guilty? I don’t understand,” he muttered.

Castiel’s heart sank and he sat up, pulling Jack in closer. The boy’s soft length slipped out of Castiel and he sat in between the angel’s legs.

“You did absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. Do you understand me?”

Jack nodded but the confusion in his eyes didn’t fade.

“I can tell by your face that what we did was ‘bad’...but,” Jack swallowed and looked away from his father, “Is it wrong that I liked it? The parts that didn’t hurt, I mean...”

Castiel’s mind sputtered to a halt. When Jack looked back up the genuine hurt that fell like a shadow over his face told the angel that he hadn’t hid his shock very well.

“I…” Castiel drew in a sharp exhale even though he didn’t actually need any air. Tears stung at the backs of his eyes. What was there to even say to that?

“It’s just…” Jack’s voice quaked. Castiel wanted to reach out and comfort his son but couldn’t make his arms work, “I l-like how it felt and you being s-so close to me...I even miss b-being inside you. It felt all warm and safe and loving and...I’m  _ so sorry, Cas… _ ”

The boy’s voice broke as fresh, sorrowful tears slid down his cheeks, breaking Castiel from his trance.

“C’mere, Jack,” he gritted out, pulling his son onto his lap. When Jack hugged Castiel it felt as though his son were hanging on for dear life. 

Nothing--not Castiel’s shame, not his self-loathing, none of it--mattered more than Jack’s well being. He’d carry the burden for both of them and take care of his son no matter what uncomfortable questions or heart-wrenching admissions the boy had. Jack was more important than any of it.

“Do you hate me now?” Jack asked, muffled against Castiel’s bare shoulder.

Castiel gripped him tighter, “ _ Of course not _ , Jack. None of this is your fault. And even if it was, you are my son-- _ mine _ \--and nothing could make me love you any less. Please tell me you understand.”

“Mhmmm,” Jack nodded rapidly and sniffled, “I-I believe you. I just n-needed to hear you say it.”

“I love you, Jack.”

“I love you, too.”

Castiel let their words settle over them like a thick blanket as Jack’s heartbeat began to even out into a slow, restful rhythm.

“Can you stay here until I fall asleep?” Jack finally mumbled.

“Of course,” Castiel solemnly replied, rubbing a grounding hand over his son’s clammy shoulder blades.

Jack moved from the angel’s lap and they both shuffled until the covers held them close together like a cocoon. Jack faced the wall, shifting back until he was cuddled in against the angel’s chest. The boy yawned and settled, reaching back to pull his Castiel’s arm over his ribcage.

Silence that was weighted but not entirely uncomfortable fell over them and a million things raced through Castiel’s mind. How he was going to answer Jack’s questions, explain what was wrong about what they did but tip-toe around making Jack feel responsible--

“Cas?” Jack’s voice was soft and wary. His heart ached--he didn’t ever want his son to be afraid to talk to him.

“Yes, Jack?”

“That--at the end...that was my first kiss, wasn’t it?”

Castiel bit his lips tight to keep in the ungodly noise that threatened to tear its way out of him.

He had indeed been Jack’s first kiss. Castiel had just robbed his son of  _ so many  _ firsts...and he would  _ never  _ forgive himself for it.

“Go to sleep, Jack. Please.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! A few quick things to note about the second half of this fic:  
> \- I hadn't originally intended to add an aftermath to this story which is what has taken me so long. That is also the reason that I have added and adjusted the tags/pairs.  
> \- I apologize for any continuity errors. I've done my best to make the whole thing flow smoothly but I'm sure I've definitely made errors.  
> \- The last and final chapter is written and only has to be edited so I will be posting that within the next week
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments which even gave me an idea to continue this fic <3

Sam was going to throw up. Or fucking cry--who knew, maybe both. 

His skin itched and buzzed in the utter silence of the Bunker. It was silence that was intermittently shattered by Jack’s keening voice moaning and screaming in ecstasy. 

What Sam wouldn’t give for another witch or a damn Knight of Hell to burst through the hatch and give him something to shoot at.

Dean had taken off already when the screams seemed to creep into every inch of the Bunker, but Sam stayed. He was an idiot for staying, he knew that. There wasn’t any real way his presence helped Jack, he was just torturing himself. Cas would keep Jack safe, Sam knew the angel would rather die than harm the boy. Sam also knew that what he was forced to do with Jack right then had the very real possibility of breaking the fallen angel. But Sam couldn’t leave, even though his legs twitched and bounced and pleaded to follow his brother’s path right out the hatch and away from the lusty screams.

They were _terrible_ screams. 

He paced the length of the library a couple dozen times over, trying to distract himself with books or his phone--but he was always up and pacing again in no time flat. He smacked his cheeks once or twice when it felt like his face had gone numb. Honestly, it kinda felt like his whole body had gone numb. But something prickly jolted down his spine each time a new cry reverberated down the Bunker’s hall walls, kicking his system into overdrive before dissolving back into that surreal numbness.

Sam was seriously putting all his effort into not thinking about _that_. How much longer was Cas gonna take with this anyway? He tried not picturing it just in case he ever wanted to feel happiness again.

His boots thudded against the concrete floor--then he stopped. His boots had been the only sound he’d heard in a while when he thought about it. Sam checked his watch. He hadn’t clocked exactly what time they’d walked Cas and Jack to the boy’s room, but it had to have been at least an hour ago. Or had it just felt that way? It couldn’t have possibly taken that long for Castiel to get Jack to--

Sam shook his head as the all-too graphic images his brain conjured up flooded his mind’s eye. He ruffled his hair back from his face and took small comfort in the way his blunt nails scratched his scalp. God, it had been a long day. He hadn’t gotten any real sleep in nearly twenty-four hours, only some slight dozing when they’d driven back from Kansas City. And whatever sanity that could’ve restored for him had been more than dashed away.

Suddenly, the muted click of a door opening and closing shook Sam from his thoughts. His head shot up and he hadn’t even realized he’d slid down from where he’d been resting against one of the library’s bookshelves until he was clambering up onto his feet. The distinct tap of dress shoes and the swoosh of fabric sent a chill down Sam’s spine. He was suddenly--painfully--aware that he had no clue what to say to the angel. It must’ve worked, or surely Cas would’ve called for their help if something had gone wrong. Which only meant...the task had been completed. What could even be said?

The figure that rounded the dormitory hallway was nothing like the angel Sam knew. This Castiel had hunched shoulders and skin with a greenish pallor to it. This Castiel had his hands in his trench coat pockets and his hazy blue eyes only stared at the floor as he drew closer.

“Cas?” Sam cleared his throat when it rasped from disuse, “Did it--is Jack alright?”

Cas rubbed a hand over his stubbled cheek in a way that was all-too reminiscent of Dean. Sam wondered if it was even possibly for angels to vomit.

“The--wait. Where is Dean?” Cas rumbled, his eyes darting back over Sam’s shoulder toward the kitchen.

“He, uh…” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, “He took off for a bit.”

“Oh,” Sam saw pain flash in the angel’s eyes as they slid back down to the floor. He was pretty sure Cas would’ve looked less hurt if Dean had simply punched him in the stomach instead, “I see. That was probably for the best anyway...”

Though Sam knew angels didn’t need sleep, he had the weird urge to wrap a blanket around Cas’s shoulders and urge him to take a nap. Going unconscious for the next handful of hours would probably be a mercy to the angel at this point.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“So, um, Jack?”

“Hmm? Yes, uh, the curse has been broken,” Cas rumbled through his teeth, “He is asleep now but it would be best to keep a close eye on him for the next several hours--just in case.”

Cas’s fists were clenched at his sides. Sam’s brain was going crazy with a bunch of different tasks that were too difficult to parse out on not enough sleep and an empty stomach too twisted in anxiety to eat. He wanted to help his friend, give the angel some hope. This wasn’t Cas’s fault by any means--the dude had probably just saved Jack’s life, after all. But Sam had been on the other side of difficult calls like this, and even knowing that what you did had to be done just wasn’t enough sometimes.

“Cas, listen, I know this is all kinds of messed up but--” Sam’s words froze on his tongue when Castiel held up a pleading hand.

“Please,” he croaked, eyes still somewhere on Sam’s boots, “Don’t. I...I appreciate your kindness. But this is something I will not be discussing.”

“O-Okay, Cas,” Sam licked his lips, “Sure, buddy.”

“I would like to be alone now,” the angel said, dipping his head in a silent goodbye. From one blink to the next, he was gone.

Sam stood in the sudden silence for a moment. Jack’s moans still echoed in his ears and he made up his mind to go for a midnight run. He’d run until all he could hear was Celine Dion flowing from his headphones and the rush of blood in his ears. Then, maybe, he’d get a few hours of shut-eye in before they all had to face whatever this was in the morning.

But first, he was gonna check on Jack.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


The next day didn’t bring much to warrant Sam’s fears. Unsurprisingly, whatever the hell the curse had done to him had sapped all of Jack’s energy and he had slept most of the day. Sam went to look in on Jack later that morning when he hadn't heard so much as a peep from the boy’s room. The room was nearly pitch black with no windows, a beam of light from the partially open door was all the help Sam had in making out the familiar features of the room. Jack was sprawled across his bed, feet tangled in the blanket and a drool stain forming on the pillow. The pajamas Cas must’ve mojo-ed onto him were crumpled and rucked up, the sure sign of a blissful deep sleep. 

Sam had a small moment of something warm and bubbly filling his chest. Jack actually kind of looked like a stereotypical teenager sleeping in late on a Saturday morning. Even when he started to stir at the light and sound of Sam’s entrance, there was nothing panicked about it. Just plain old grogginess.

“S’m?” Jack mumbled, eyes scrunching up and a hand smacking lazily at the string of spit on his cheek.

“Hey, Jack. You can go back to sleep, I was just making sure you were doing okay,” Sam whispered, already turning to reach for the door handle.

“S’m?” Jack’s eyes were half-lidded but content when they looked up at him, “Could I ‘ve some cereal?”

Sam surprised himself with a chuckle and nodded, “Sure, buddy. Be right back.”

There was a lightness to Sam’s step as he made his way to the kitchen. Despite the last thirty-six hours and the awful shit those hours had wrought, Jack actually seemed...okay. Like, startlingly okay. Even in the dim light of the boy’s room, Sam hadn’t missed that small smile that regularly accompanied anything Jack said--especially when there was talk of Krunch Cookie Crunch. It helped settle something anxious and boiling in Sam’s soul. With any luck, whatever had temporarily had Jack under a trance had wiped his memory of everything, too. God, were they that lucky, though? Sam didn’t have much hope, but he had some.

The kitchen was empty when he arrived. Though there was a very obvious Dean-made trail of food crumbs and left out containers to show that at least his brother had made it home sometime last night. He breathed a little easier and went about preparing Jack’s cereal and getting out the makings of his own breakfast.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


When lunch rolled around, Jack still hadn’t come out of his room so Sam brought the kid a PB&J, some grapes, and whatever crackers Dean had gotten from the grocery store. Jack was conked out once again, snuffling face down in his pillow. Sam had set the food on the nightstand and took the empty cereal bowl. He made a quick exit, more than a little relieved that Jack seemed to be getting exactly the sleep he needed.

The afternoon passed in a similar fashion as Sam read up on a potential rugaru case he’d found. Jack hadn’t made an appearance--and neither had Cas for that matter. Dean’s fluffy, morning hair poked into the kitchen once when Sam went to fix himself a snack. For a second he thought his brother might bolt off back down the hall when he realized the kitchen wasn’t empty. But in true Dean fashion, the prospect of food outweighed whatever awkwardness he was worried about, and the older Winchester had shuffled his robe-cladden body into the galley. Sam mentioned the rugarus down in Louisiana and Dean gave two-word responses to just about everything he said. And, in no time at all, Dean had whisked himself and his re-heated takeout back to his room or the Dean-Cave or wherever he was hiding to avoid everyone else.

Six o’clock found Sam chopping bell peppers for his salad, with a frozen Supreme pizza baking in the oven. There wasn’t much time left on the pizza and Sam set out a plate for himself and one he’d take to Jack before emptying the cutting board into his metallic salad bowl.

His ears perked up at the soft padding of feet travelling down the hallway. They were lighter steps than Dean or Cas and Sam smiled to himself. It was odd to think how much time he had spent with all three guys to be able to discern the distinct sound of each of their footsteps.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, buddy,” Sam said, with a quick glance over his shoulder that was more of an acknowledgement of Jack’s presence than to gather any information, “You hungry? Pizza’s almost done.”

“Hello, Sam,” Jack rumbled before a yawn filled the air. Sam chuckled when he could practically hear the smile in the kid’s voice as he added, “I’m starving--pizza sounds _awesome_. Thank you.”

It brought Sam up short to hear Jack say ‘awesome’ in that way he’d clearly picked up from Dean. He felt his lips quirking up entirely of their own will. When he turned around, Jack was standing on the other side of the island, beaming with his gaze fixed on the oven and the golden-lit Supreme inside.

“How’d you sleep?” Sam asked. Jack had looked to be pretty heavily out of it for the better part of the day, but it was as good a question as any to start to suss out Jack’s state of mind.

“I slept very well, thank you,” Blue eyes flashed up to Sam, and to his amazement there wasn’t one ounce of discomfort or awkwardness in that gaze. There was still the wonderful glimmer of naivety that Jack had always had and it gave Sam pause. Did Jack...really not remember what Cas…? There wasn’t anything but open excitement about pizza in the kid’s demeanor, and Sam was loath to dig any deeper looking for something that might not be there. 

Well damn...maybe they were that lucky after all. 

The timer dinged and Sam set about slipping the hot cardboard circle out of the oven and onto one of the unused burners. There was a content silence that shrouded the kitchen as he sliced the steaming pizza and dished out two slices onto each of their plates. He handed Jack his plate and scooped up his salad bowl and they made their way to the table.

The echo of dress shoes _thap thap thapping_ as they approached had a few knots in Sam’s stomach tightening back up. The flutter of a tan trenchcoat announced Cas’s arrival. The angel was still oddly hunched over and his head was tilted down enough that Sam could almost make out a cowlick at the crown of his head. He hadn’t startled at the sight of Jack when he’d entered, though his shoulders seemed to slump more in resignation.

“Hi, Castiel!” Jack chirped.

When Sam glanced at Jack--who’d spun in his seat to face the doorway--his stomach dropped. A shadow of that hungry, _ravenous_ look that had marred the kid’s features the day before flashed across his eyes again. Jack was biting his lip around a smile, and gray-blue eyes gave the angel what could only be described as a once-over. It was the same look he’d seen cross Dean’s face when he was mentally undressing whatever poor waitress (or waiter, if he were honest) was taking their order. 

Yup, Jack remembered.

Suddenly, the last thing Sam wanted to do was eat. He cleared his throat and shifted a few leaves of lettuce around with his fork.

“Uh, hey, Cas,” he mumbled.

“Hello, Sam...Jack,” the angel took a few steps toward them like he was going to sit down and join them, but thought better of it. Whatever guilt trip Cas was on, Sam knew it wasn’t truly his fault and a part of him was trying to conjure up the right words to tell him that. But he couldn’t find them, so he kept his mouth closed.

Instead, Jack turned his entire body toward the angel, practically bouncing like a puppy, “I missed you, Cas! How are you? Do you want to join us for pizza? It is the kind with chicken!”

“N-No, thank you, Jack,” the angel shifted his weight on his feet. He glanced up at the boy before his eyes darted to some imaginary spot on the wall, “...how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great, Cas,” Jack said, seeming utterly oblivious to the angel’s entire disposition, “I slept for so long!”

Sam noticed a quirk of Cas’s lips before it vanished again. He shuffled closer, hand clenching and unclenching at his side. He warily raised a palm up to Jack’s forehead, but left a gap between their skin, “Um, may I?”

Jack nodded and tipped his head forward to rest on the angel’s hand. A tiny light illuminated from the point of contact. Jack’s eyes fluttered closed and he seemed to keen further into the touch.

Then he made a grumbly, throaty sound that was much too similar to a groan. Cas’s hand reared back like he’d been stung and Sam gave up on trying to eat anything and pushed his plate and bowl to the side.

“Yes, you’re fine now,” Cas hastily muttered, his eyes glanced at Sam’s as he continued, “I-I am--Have you talked to Dean yet today?”

“Uh, little bit yeah,” Sam replied, “Have you?”

“Yes...briefly,” that statement somehow seemed to have the angel drawing even further into himself. He shook his head and added, “He told me you found a rugaru case? In the D’Arbonne Wildlife Refuge?”  
“Yeah, looks like it anyway.”

“I just wanted to check on Jack before I go...investigate,” Cas sighed.

“You’re going alone?” Sam’s skin prickled a little. He expected Dean to run away from problems--it’s what his brother had done all his life--but he’d hoped Cas would want to face this differently. Besides, all else aside, it was really friggin’ stupid to hunt alone if you could help it, “At least take Dean with you. He’d probably love an excuse to get outta the house.”

“Or we could go with you,” Jack’s face lit up, “I’ll go pack up my duffel--”

Cas held up a yielding hand and stuffed the other in his coat pocket, “I think it would be best for me to go alone, Jack. I think we could all use...some time to clear our heads.”

That was a bullshit excuse if Sam had ever heard one--and he had, he was a professional bullshitter at this point.

“What? How come?” Jack’s brow furrowed and he looked between Cas and Sam for an explanation.

Cas shot the boy a glare and scrubbed at his face. Had...had Cas ever actually _glared_ at Jack? Jack seemed equally surprised and his thin shoulders slumped. Wide eyes and a small frown looked between the two again. Sam felt his mouth open around words he hadn’t quite formed yet before snapping closed again.

“Cas?” Jack’s voice was firm but a twinge of hurt was unmistakable, “Is this about what happened when I was cursed because--”

“ _Stop_ ,” Cas’s voice boomed, seeming to reverberate off all the metallic appliances and ringing in the otherwise quiet of the kitchen. The angel’s glare was directed at the ground now, and if Sam hadn’t known any better he’d have sworn a shame-filled blush was tinging Cas’s cheeks, “Just...stop. Please. That is something we are _not_ going to talk about.”

“But, Cas--” Jack began, the corners of his mouth dipping even lower.

“I’ll inform you of any developments,” Cas nodded at Sam but turned without meeting Jack’s eye. 

“Ca--” Sam started, but in a breath, Cas had vanished and a clay-like tension stuck to Sam’s skin.

Jack was still swiveled in his seat, staring at the empty space the angel had been in, his mouth slightly agape. Sam hesitantly watched the side of the boy’s face as he blinked twice before turning to look at Sam. Sam’s brain scrambled for something--anything resembling an explanation for Cas’s weird behavior. But there was no way he could say out loud the reason he knew for why Castiel was acting like this. He’d pushed all the awful shit he’d heard and his mind had pictured way back into the dark corners and he couldn’t bring himself to put any of it to words.

Before he could even stumble over a non-answer, Jack’s face morphed into something deceptively neutral. He collected his plate and the water bottle he must’ve brought from his room and turned towards the doorway. Sam’s mouth was still clicking around unspoken words as Jack disappeared around the corner.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


Over the next few days, Jack sensed the weighted air of the Bunker sitting on his chest every time he left his room. Ever since his father left--and what he’d said as he left--Jack had noticed a difference in the brothers as well. Sam was still kind and talked to him most times, but there was something sad and full of pity lacing his hazel eyes every time he looked at Jack. Maybe he thought he was hiding it, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. It was starting to make Jack’s skin crawl. What did he pity Jack for? It didn’t make sense. At least Jack had a pretty good idea that Cas was angry with him because of what happened when he’d been cursed--but what did that have to do with Sam? Or Dean, for that matter? The older Winchester hadn’t said more than a sentence to him in nearly three days. And Jack had been the one to say hello to him in the hall, which seemed to startle Dean if the way he quickly walked in the other direction was any indicator. Was Dean angry at him, too? If so, then it was a different kind of anger than he’d normally seen the hunter display. Before, when they all thought Castiel had died, Dean’s anger usually took bites out of Jack with mean ‘jokes’ and eye rolls that had made him feel like he didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as the brothers. But this was nothing like that. Dean hadn’t wanted to meet his eye just like Cas, and there was a shadow of pity in his face, too. But _why_?

Jack was lying on his back on top of his bed, staring at a water stain on the ceiling. He’d left his door open in the hopes that maybe, just maybe one of the brothers would see it as an opportunity to say more than a few words to him. It hadn’t worked so far.

Down the hall, Jack could hear the lovely roughness of Sam’s voice having a one-sided conversation. By the bits of sentences that spoke of humanoid beings, fire, and the Louisiana sun, Jack knew that Cas was checking in to share any new information he had on the case. Jack rose his cellphone to eye-level and thumbed open the Messages icon. All of the texts he’d sent his father were still marked ‘unread’. And his phone had been no more than a few feet away from him in case Cas decided to call him back instead--but that hadn’t happened yet either. His eyes slid closed in tandem with the _click_ of his phone shutting off as he set it back down on the bed beside him. He took a deep breath when something sharp squeezed in his chest.

How was Jack supposed to ask what he’d done wrong and say he was sorry if Cas wasn’t talking to him anymore? He didn’t understand. Cas had told him that he didn’t have anything to feel guilty for--had he just been lying? But why would he lie? And what was so bad about what they had done anyway? It’d been...one of the most _incredible_ experiences of Jack’s life. Though there had been pain and frustration from the effects of the curse, he couldn’t stop thinking about how indescribably wonderful the whole thing had felt. And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it ever since. He’d woken up every morning with the phantom feeling of Cas’s hands on his body or Cas’s lips on his forehead, and a stiffness in his penis that hadn’t been there when he’d gone to bed. 

When he’d first woken up to hard throbs thrumming in his body, he’d panicked and almost cried out for Castiel to tell him the curse hadn’t been broken. Then, as he’d shifted to throw the sweat-soaked covers off of him, he’d accidentally rubbed against the mattress. His breath had stuttered out of him and instinctively, his hips had thrust into the soft cotton of the bottom sheet once again. He hadn’t remembered putting on pajama pants the night before but paid them little mind as he tugged the elastic waistband away to expose his sensitive parts to the warm air. It wasn’t the same frenzied feeling in his blood as when the curse had been operating in his system, and rutting into the mattress certainly hadn’t felt half as nice as rutting into Cas--but in no time at all, Jack had crested that shaky, shimmering feeling. He’d stopped breathing as electric waves rattled his body, his penis twitching and shooting out that sticky stuff that wasn’t urine but kinda felt like it. Jack hadn’t even realized he’d fallen back asleep until he’d heard Sam come into his room to check on him. 

He’d used his mattress several times over the last few days--and achieved similar results each time.

Jack’s mind resurfaced from the memory to find his grip on his cellphone had become tighter and his body felt warmer than usual. The soft jacket he had on over his t-shirt felt much too hot and he plucked at the fabric at the front of his jeans which felt tighter than before. He kinda felt like taking his clothes off, and wasn’t that a strange thought? Except, it’d be completely normal to take all his clothes off at two o’clock in the afternoon if he was doing so in order to take a shower. He had greatly enjoyed the sensation of showers ever since the Winchesters had taught him how they worked. They were warm like a hug and made his skin tingle in a very soothing way. Dean always said how good the water pressure at the Bunker was compared to motels and--once Jack learned what ‘water pressure’ meant--he had to agree.

Making up his mind, Jack sat up from the bed and slipped his phone into jeans pocket to take with him (just in case). Of course the hall to the bathroom was empty since he could still hear Sam’s voice drifting in from the library and Dean was either in his room or running an ‘errand’ for the fifth time in fewer days. Jack was beginning to think that Dean was starting to make up excuses to leave the Bunker since their pantry and refrigerator was more than stocked at this point.

Jack’s jeans were still uncomfortably snug around the front as he made it to the bathroom. It was a relief to his body and his brain when he finally stepped into one of the shower stalls and closed the curtain behind him. He hung the towel he’d grabbed from the bathroom cabinet onto one of the hooks and set his soap in one of the shower’s cubbies. His clothing made a hasty mountain on the tile, finally topped by his striped briefs. He sighed and his skin sang in relief. His penis stuck out at an odd angle, more pink than it usually was but not as veiny and red as he knew it could get.

He fussed with the shower’s valve until perfectly-heated water massaged his forearm where he held it under the spray. He stepped in and closed the plastic curtain, letting his eyes flutter shut at the sensation. Water droplets were already forming a sheet that covered the tile wall, Jack grinned and traced a smiley face into the condensation. He hadn’t showered in a while since Cas had ‘mojo-ed’ him clean after they’d had the sex. The water soothed his nerves and he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of this earlier.

He lathered the bar of soap in his hands and scrubbed them over nearly every inch of his skin. As more and more bubbles spiraled down the drain, Jack got lost in his thoughts again.

_“Jack,” his angel’s rumbly voice almost tickled Jack’s skin with the way he buzzed against him, “What do you need of me?”_

At the time Castiel had asked him that, Jack hadn’t had a clue how to respond. Now that he knew how good it felt to have his penis sheathed inside his father, Jack wished he’d just asked for that right away. The more he thought about it, though, the more he was actually grateful that Cas had thought to test out other forms of helping before moving on to penetration. Even the thought of Cas’s searing, velvety mouth had extremely pleasant tingles running down Jack’s spine. It made him huff in frustration, though. Everything had felt so, _so_ good...why was Castiel angry with him now? He tried to dissect what had happened for what felt like the millionth time, though Jack knew that was an exaggeration.

_...Jack gasped and threw his head back as the angel’s hand tightened in resolve and started slow, steady strokes around his penis…_

_“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Castiel murmured, lips speaking into Jack’s matted hair like a moving kiss…_

Jack thought about all the things he’d learned so far about the sex and tried to organize everything into some sort of order that fit with his new experiences as well. He closed his eyes and could clearly see his father’s broad shoulders above him and the roll of muscle in his arm as he stroked Jack so tenderly. From what he had learned from movies and the blurbs from the _Cosmopolitan_ magazines that he read while in line at the grocery store, sex was something you did to feel good and was the most fun with people you loved. So...what was the problem? He loved his father more than anyone else in the universe, that probably had something to do with all the emotions he had felt that were still with him even after the curse had subsided. Did...did Castiel just not love him? Was that why he hadn’t seemed to enjoy touching Jack? The thought made the boy’s knees a little unsteady so he pushed it from his mind. No, Cas had said he loved Jack.

_“Love you, Cas, love you so much…”_

_“I know, Jack. I love you, too.”_

Jack believed his father. If Cas said he loved him then he did, because the alternative meant--well, it didn’t matter because Cas loved him. Maybe Cas was just mad that Jack hadn’t touched him back. Come to think of it, that had been pretty selfish of him. Castiel had touched him so good and taken Jack into his mouth in the greatest way imaginable--and Jack hadn’t touched Castiel’s penis at all. Well, there was an easy solution to all this. If Cas would only respond to Jack’s texts he could tell him he would--no, _wanted_ to reciprocate all of Castiel’s kindness. He would gladly stroke his father the way Castiel had done for him.

_“Pl-Please touch me again, Cas, please.”_

_...Jack shivered when Castiel’s hand returned to his hardness. Then, his father was whispering in his ear again..._

_“I’ve got you,” Cas sighed against his temple, his lazy strokes starting back up, “I’m not going anywhere.”_

Jack was startled by a low moan that vibrated in his ear, his eyes snapped open. He glanced around a moment before he realized that he was actually the source of the sound. The shower stall and the glint of the water seemed brighter and more vibrant since he’d apparently had his eyes closed for quite some time. A pleasant, and now familiar ache in his lower belly drew his attention downward. His penis was a much darker shade of pink now and curved up, almost touching his belly. He smiled down at it and ran his fingers gently around it in a way that made goosebumps ripple across his skin. He had wondered if having a penis was kind of like having a pet because it seemed to have a mind of its own and liked to be pet a lot.

After a few more tickling touches, Jack wrapped his hand around himself and felt a shiver at the full contact. He’d only used his mattress to bring himself to that explosive feeling that made him feel alive and dead at the same time since it reminded him of being inside Castiel. A few times he had even kissed his pillow and whispered the angel’s name, but it had only made him more sad to think he might never get to be with his father like that again. This, though--the feeling of his sudsy hand firmly gripping himself had flashes of Castiel’s hand wrapped around him and tugging oh-so-tightly flooding his mind. This was much better.

Jack closed his eyes again and simply _felt_ his body. Though his hand was pulling little gasps from his lips and making him shudder, it was a poor substitute for his father’s touch. 

_...Castiel dipped his head as he moved, placing a zig-zagging line of kisses across Jack’s chest that started at his heart and ended over his belly button..._

Jack moved his fingers lightly down his chest, criss-crossing in the same way Cas had. He felt like the delicate trail of kisses was somehow tattooed into his skin. He could almost feel Cas’s lips again if he concentrated. His nipples were pokey and made him shiver when he brushed his thumb over them.

_...Castiel’s pink tongue slid out between slightly chapped lips, placing a few wary licks along the part of Jack’s hardness that his hand wasn’t covering. Jack moaned..._

For some reason, remembering how Castiel felt and imagining that it was his grip bringing Jack closer to his peak instead of his own was almost tricking his penis into believing the fantasy was real. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing deep in his groin and blood rushing in his ears. He licked his lips when another thought crossed his mind.

Dean’s lips weren’t chapped. They were pink and full and he’d even seen the hunter sneak a flavorless Chap-Stick in between items when they were checking out at a Gas’n’Sip one time. They would probably feel even softer and smoother on the sensitive skin of his penis than Cas’s had. He pictured that playful smirk Dean got right before he beat out everyone in Monopoly, it was so sly and made his eyes twinkle. Maybe that’s the same knowing smile Dean would wear just before he took Jack into his mouth. Dean had such a kind heart, he’d probably take care of Jack in the same gentle way Cas had. Jack loved the hunter very much, too.

Jack called to mind the way it had felt when his penis had first been sucked into Cas’s mouth...and he tried to picture Dean in his father’s place.

_...Jack would let his head fall back and relax as the hunter’s soft lips perched on the tip of his penis, just resting there a moment with a grin before sliding open. Dean’s mouth would be so unbelievably warm that it almost burned as he suckled…_

_...He’d wind his free hand in Dean’s dark blond, spiky hair, pressing slightly on his head. Dean would feel the silent urging, and hum before sinking his mouth down the last few inches..._

Jack gasped, his eyes snapping open. Half-ideas and a tidal wave of imagined images suddenly flooded his mind. He felt like he’d just found a way to peer into a--much more pleasant--alternate universe. It reminded him of that movie Dean had made him watch where the kids crawled through a dresser and ended up in a magical world. Except, Jack’s new magic world was safely locked away in his brain. He had so many possibilities now, it seemed.

He tightened his grip on his penis which was throbbing and sending rays of sunshine out all across his body. His legs felt oddly weak and he leaned back against the tile, his smiley face long since vanished. Jack’s eyes slid closed again.

The only other person in his life who he loved and felt comfortable enough with to touch like that flashed before his mind’s eye. Sam Winchester. Sam gave really good hugs and was one of the nicest people Jack had ever met. He was always there for Jack when he needed to talk. Sam would probably wrap his big, warm arms around him when Jack slid himself inside the man’s body. It made his stomach swoop and a warm flush creep up his back to imagine the words Sam would whisper in his ear.

_...Sam would be velvety soft on the inside and hold Jack’s penis so snugly within him. He’d run a hand over Jack’s back, voice rumbling and warm in Jack’s ear. He’d say, “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”_

Jack’s hand flew at a lightning speed over his pulsing flesh. His breaths were getting quicker and rapsier.

_“It’s alright, you’re doing so well,” Sam would wrap his muscular, all-encompassing arms around Jack’s shaking shoulders, “Such a good job, Jack. I love you so much.”_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack could hear his own moans and mumbled words vibrating in his ears. It hardly mattered though, he was with Sam now.

_...Jack’s face would hover only a few inches over Sam’s, taking in the light flush that filled the man’s cheeks. He’d clutch Sam’s shoulders as he got closer, staring down into deep hazel eyes. Pressure would reach its peak in his belly and he’d dive forward, crushing his lips onto Sam’s as his penis shot its sticky fluid deep inside the man..._

Jack shook, his hips lurching in place as his body painted the rim of the drain in white. Water swirled the evidence of his explorations out of sight, but his skin was still thrumming. He’d doubled forward at some point and ever so slowly straightened his back out against the cool tile, his heartbeat fading from it’s pounding in at the base of his length. It had been the hardest he’d felt this explosion since he’d been inside Castiel. Incredible.

His legs felt bendy beneath him as fine tremors shivered down his calf muscles. He breathed deeply and let himself live in the sensations of water pummeling his skin to numbness and the warmth still radiating in his limbs.

Jack imagined what it’d be like to kiss Sam as he came down from his high still buried inside him. Maybe Sam would let Jack stay inside the hunter a little longer, even if it was just for comfort. His stomach seemed to do a flop that was equal parts pleasant and sour. He was still no closer to understanding why Cas was mad at him. Even though Sam looked at him sadly sometimes, at least the younger Winchester was still talking to him. If Sam had been the one to help him through his curse, _he_ probably wouldn’t be ignoring Jack like Cas was. Maybe Sam would even let them do it again instead of try to run away from Jack as if he were some icky monster.

Maybe he’d even let Jack take Sam in his own mouth, caress him with his tongue and make him feel good as Jack had. Jack wondered if he could make Sam feel like he’d exploded, too. Would Sam see sparkles behind his eyelids? Maybe, if Jack asked very nicely, they could find out together.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


“Come on, man. Aren’t you going to at least talk to him?” Sam sighed.

A heavy exhale to match his own crackled through the speaker and Sam could picture the angel rolling his eyes. Well, screw him, too.

“Yes, Sam, but…” Cas said, “Eventually. I’ll have a conversation with him eventually, I promise.”

Sam huffed a breath and rubbed at his dry eyes, “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Suit yourself. Is that all?”

“Um, yes. That is all,” Even through the mechanical echo, Sam could hear guilt pinching the angel’s words, “I should be wrapping up soon here.”

“‘Kay, bye,” Sam hung up without waiting for a response. He knew Cas was going through his own shit, and it wasn’t like Sam was judging ‘cause he wasn’t...but this wasn’t fair to Jack. The kid had been mopey and only came out of his room for meals. Sam was still pissed at his brother for being such a man-child and avoiding Jack just like Cas was. If Dean just grew a spine and confronted Cas, Sam would bet a million dollars the angel would get his ass back to the Bunker and finally talk to the kid. But it was like Cas and Dean were two halves of the same whole--and it was goddamn infuriating sometimes.

Sam took a swig of his now-flat beer and scooped up his computer. Maybe it’d give Jack a little pick-me-up to hear that Cas would be back soon. God knew the kid could probably use it.

Sam turned the corner of the hallway, laptop in hand and phone tucked back into his jeans’ pocket. He padded past his room and down to Jack’s. He knocked twice, but the door only squeaked open on its hinges. It was empty. He wandered back up the hall and realized that had he turned the other way when he entered the hallway we would’ve seen the line of light and puffs of steam escaping from the partially open bathroom door. Huh, looked like Jack was taking a shower.

He debated just turning back to the library and telling Jack later but it wasn’t like this more than a newsflash really. He could just duck his head in, tell the kid Cas was staying safe and would be home soon and duck out. He walked toward the bathroom, a swirl of relief that he could keep the conversation short unfurled in his stomach. He felt like shit as soon as the thought crossed his mind because Jack didn’t need another father figure in his life who was trying to dodge him.

Sam cleared his throat as he approached the door, shoving down his own twinges of discomfort. He tapped on the door.

“Jack?”

There was no reply, but that was hardly a surprise. The water pressure was the best and sounded like a waterfall right up next to it, it was no wonder Jack probably couldn’t hear him. He opened the door a little more and stuck his head into the warm, humid air.

“Hey, Jack, I just--”

Then he heard it.

“ _Auhhhhh…_ ” Sam froze as the breathy moan rang in his head. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ . He had to leave and right that fucking instant, “Yeah, yeah... _more please_ ,” Jack gasped, barely a sound above the rush of water but blaring like a horn in Sam’s ears.

Sam drew back and out of the bathroom, closing the door as quickly and quietly as humanly possible--he didn’t want Jack or anybody to ever know he’d heard those noises coming from the kid.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his forehead against the lid of his open laptop. He felt a new rush of sympathy for Cas. The poor guy had had to listen to their fucking _child_ make those noises up close and personal without the mercy of being able to escape as easily as Sam had.

In what felt like two long-legged strides, Sam was back in the library and slumped in one of the wooden chairs. He rubbed his hands over his eyes so hard he started to see spots. He let his head fall back and took a few calming breaths. This was perfectly normal. It was natural--healthy even--for a kid his age to jerk off in the shower sometimes. It wasn’t like Sam didn’t do the same at least a few times a week. This had absolutely nothing to do with what Cas had done to Jack. Sam had just accidentally walked in on something that had probably been happening long before the Druid shit hit the fan--everything was fine. The kid probably had questions and stuff but Cas, who was basically Jack’s number one dad, should be the one to answer them. Sam didn’t even know what he’d say if Jack asked him about sex. Dean had given Sam The Talk, but Sam hadn’t had a younger brother to pass that kind of info on down to. So, yeah, it was a way better idea if Cas was the one to field Jack’s questions. 

There was time, Sam told himself as he woke his laptop back up and re-opened one of the rugaru books, Cas could and should talk to the kid once he got back. But they had plenty of time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concluding chapter here we go!

It was nearly dinner time on the fifth day since Cas had left the Bunker, and Jack had had enough. His hopes that Sam or Dean would waltz in and ask him if he wanted to talk simply by leaving his door open had all but gone up in smoke, which meant he’d have to try a more direct approach. Jack knew that if he tried to confront Dean in his own bedroom or the ‘Dean-Cave’, the hunter would react like a cornered monster and only get angry. But, maybe if Jack caught him in a shared space, he’d be less likely to bolt or get defensive right away. He had done his research on a few very helpful sites that seemed to know a lot about sex between a person and their daddy (which he supposed Cas qualified as), so now he had questions and he was going to get answers.

Before Jack even rounded the corner into the kitchen, he could smell and hear bacon crackling on the stove top. Perfect. His odds of getting out at least a few questions had just risen since Dean wouldn’t abandon his cooked meats easily. Even if it meant he couldn’t avoid conversing with Jack. The thought stung Jack under his ribs, but he held his head high and entered the kitchen anyway.

“Hello, Dean,” he said in way of greeting, holding his hand up in a wave.

He saw the hunter’s shoulders immediately tense under his dark blue flannel. That stung even worse. Was Jack’s mere presence really that bad?

“Uh, hey, kid,” Dean said, his back remained turned toward Jack. His voice was a little higher, less growly than he usually got when he was angry. Jack took it as a good sign.

“How are you doing today?” Jack asked. Castiel had taught him that manners were very important. Maybe, if Jack was extra polite, Dean would feel more at ease.

“Fine, I guess,” He mumbled, “How about...you? You been sleeping okay?”

Jack hadn’t expected Dean to ask  _ him _ questions. He thought that maybe Dean wouldn’t really care how he was doing--it wasn’t like the hunter had asked lately. Dean was probably only using his manners, too.

“I’ve been sleeping well, thank you,” Jack said. He took a deep breath, “Dean? Can I ask you something?”

Dean groaned and his shoulders slumped, “Jack, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should just wait until Cas--”

“Cas isn’t talking to me either, Dean,” Jack snapped. He hadn’t thought  _ he _ ’d be the one to get angry either but, well, it kind of just happened anyway, “He won’t speak to me, just like you won’t and  _ I don’t understand why _ .”

Dean looked over his shoulder and met Jack’s eye. There wasn’t anger burning dangerous and bright like Jack had been expecting. There was...sadness. Why?

“Really?” the hunter finally asked. He turned back to his pan and used the spatula to flip the crackling strips.

Jack felt a pebble in his throat everytime he swallowed, “Yes. I tried talking to him before...but then he left. And I’ve tried calling him and texting him, but he doesn’t answer. I know he’s told me you two share a ‘profound bond’,” Dean huffed a laugh at that and it was a gentler sound than Jack had been expecting, “And I thought maybe you could tell me why he’s acting so weird. It...I don’t like it, Dean. It feels bad.”

Dean stole a look at Jack again before returning his focus to his pan. This time, though, the spatula didn’t even touch the bacon and Jack was fairly positive that the hunter simply didn’t want to look his way.

“Uh,” Dean sighed, “I guess he probably feels guilty.”

“About that witch cursing me?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows. How was that his father’s fault?

“Well, no,” Dean scratched his neck, “He probably feels guilty about what he had to do to you to break the curse.”

The last part was muttered and, while Jack somewhat understood that that’s what Cas and the brothers were so worked up about, it still didn’t explain  _ why _ .

“You mean because he had to fuck me?” Jack asked.

Dean dropped the spatula with a very un-Winchester-like yelp, “Jesus Chirst, kid! Where the hell did you even learn that word?!”

Dean bent down to grab the spatula and hit his head on one of the drawer handles. “Fuck,” he cursed.

When wide green eyes finally met Jack’s, he decided that Dean would only use the subject change as a diversion and that was the last thing Jack wanted right then, “Is that why, Dean?”

“Why what?” Jack had not heard Sam’s heavy boot steps and jumped a little when Sam brushed past him and headed towards the refrigerator. He started unloading salad fixings onto the island.

“I asked Dean if the reason Cas is mad at me is because him and I had the sex,” Jack stated, but his brow furrowed when Sam, too, dropped what he was holding onto the kitchen floor. Why were the brothers so clumsy today? “Dean still hasn’t answered my question.”

“Oh, we’re going there,” Sam muttered and turned back to fish the vinegar off the fridge’s top shelf.

“Just, uh...give me a second to think, kid,” Dean huffed, turning to face Jack and running a hand over his scruff, “I mean, I wouldn’t’ve put it like  _ that _ ...but, yeah. That’s why Cas feels guilty.”

Jack shook his head, frustration and hurt were starting to bubble up in the pit of his belly, “But...why, Dean? It doesn’t make any sense! What does he have to feel guilty about? He cured me, and it wasn’t his fault I was even cursed in the first place. And he made me feel really, really good when he touched me--”

“Okay now--” Dean looked at the floor and held up a hand, but Jack was not in the mood to be interrupted.

“No,” he snapped, “If he made me feel good, why does  _ he _ feel bad? Was it something I did wrong?”

“Jack--” Sam sighed. Jack flared his nostrils and plowed right past Sam’s comment.

“I was doing research online since, I figured, if the internet can help us find monsters it could maybe help me understand what Cas was angry about,” Jack began, “And according to ‘xxxvideos.com’--”

“You didn’t…” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“When a father has sex with his son, it’s usually a very pleasurable experience for both of them. The father even seems to enjoy it more if his ‘baby boy’ is a ‘slut’,” Sam looked a little pale and had long since halted his salad making, “And after I looked it up on ‘dictionary.com’, I realized that I was a slut too--so why didn’t Cas like it when we had sex?”

Silence filled the room as soon Jack had closed his mouth. He could hear the sink faucet dripping off to the side. Sam was staring at him with raised eyebrows and a slightly parted mouth. When it became obvious that the younger Winchester still seemed to be thinking of a good answer to his question, Jack turned his eyes to Dean. Dean’s face was buried in his palm and he was shaking his head.

“Gun. Mouth. Now,” the hunter murmured, making an odd L-shaped gesture with his hand under his chin before quirking his thumb. Without another word, he turned around and clicked off the stove, setting his pan onto one of the cool back burners. It was only then that the scent of burnt meat hit Jack’s nose.

“I, uh--” Sam’s voice was little more than a croak, his mouth opening and closing in a way that reminded Jack of Mr. Garth’s sock puppet. But unlike when he’d first met Mr. Fizzles, Jack was  _ not _ laughing.

“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this,” Dean sighed, tossing the spatula onto the counter.

Jack widened the stance of his legs, hoping to deter Dean at least a little bit from leaving, but the hunter only side-stepped him. He patted Jack’s shoulder as he passed, sweeping out of the kitchen and--presumably--back to his room. Jack’s shoulders slumped. The pebble in his throat had swelled up and the backs of his eyes stung. What was he going to do now? Cas was angry at him or felt guilty or whatever, and now he was sure Dean was really going to be avoiding him...what was left? Sam’s hazel eyes were still wide and not fixed on Jack but at some unseen point on the wall above the table. He loved Sam and he loved Dean and he loved Cas...but maybe that wasn’t going to be enough. Maybe they just didn’t feel as strongly for him and this was the ultimate test of his fathers’ love for him. Maybe Jack had failed that test when he’d gotten cursed or maybe it was long before that.

Either way, Jack turned out of the kitchen and walked back to his room.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


When Cas opened the Bunker hatch, Sam was kicked back in one of the rolling chairs he’d dragged up to the library table when his butt had started to go numb from the wooden ones. He wasn’t entirely sure why Cas decided to poof into existence on the other side of the hatch but, well, the Angel of the Lord had never been much for subtlety.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam called, highlighting the line in the online article he’d left off on. He swung his legs down from where they rested on one of the other chairs and turned to face the angel as he descended the staircase.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas nodded. He was looking a little less sick-to-his-stomach than when he’d disappeared in the kitchen a week ago, but there was still a timidness about him that looked so off on a creature of such power.

“I got your text. No problems ganking the thing?” Cas’s shoulders were a dilapidated line under his trench coat and he was still only meeting Sam’s eye half the time. So much for ‘clearing’ his head.

“None at all,” the angel replied.

Sam saw a flash of plaid pajama pants in his periphery behind Cas.

“Cas?” Jack’s voice was hesitant and low like he was talking to a spooked horse. It made Sam’s heart squeeze in his chest.

Cas’s eyes slid closed and his jaw tightened. Jack stepped closer and closer then stopped before he’d even reached the few steps that'd bring him into the library where Cas stood before Sam. Sam had seen the two reunite enough times to feel the chasm that stretched between them now.

“Hello, Jack,” Cas raised his chin and looked somewhere off above Sam’s head. His voice was cold and rough as the brick walls surrounding them.

Jack’s face fell and his eyes dropped to the ground. Sam could feel his hands clench at his sides...but he felt like an intruder in this interaction and he wasn’t sure his input would be welcome even if he could think of something to say.

“Cas?” Jack sighed, “Why are you upset with me?”

Cas’s head drooped and he turned around, his back to Sam.

“I’m not upset with you Jack. It’s nothing,” he stated, scritching the back of his neck.

“Then how come you wouldn’t return my calls?” The stung look on Jack’s face made Sam’s skin itch and he looked away, “It’s been seven days and eight hours. If it was ‘nothing’ you would have called me back.”

Cas made a grumbling, discomforted noise in the back of his throat, “I’m sorry, Jack. You’re right, I should’ve called you back. I apologize.”

The apology sounded elusive even to Sam’s ear and he cringed. Jack’s frown deepened, “And…?”

“‘And’ what?” the angel replied, though the way his head tilted down to look away from the kid makes it crystal clear that he knew exactly ‘what’.

“ _ Why _ didn’t you call me back?”

“I…” the angel’s voice was little more than a whisper, “I’m sorry, Jack. I should’ve called, that wasn’t fair to you.”

Cas’s words hung like frozen raindrops in the air. When he offered nothing more, Sam saw Jack’s hands shove into his sweatshirt pockets. The anger in his eyes did nothing to mask the pain also residing there, “I still love you, Cas,” the boy murmured.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked solemnly back to the dormitory hall.

Castiel was silent, his back still to Sam and staring at the space Jack had filled.

“Cas,” Sam sighed, shoving his laptop to the side, “I thought you were going to talk to him?”

“I will, I just…” the angel rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sam said, “Eventually.”

Sam let his anger sink in, accepting it and letting it wash through him. There was nowhere to direct it since getting angry at Cas or Dean or anybody wasn’t gonna solve jackshit. He was nearly ready to slide out of his chair and get something stronger than his glass of orange juice when the angel turned back around to face him.

“Is Dean here?” The hopeful yet sad lilt to Cas’s voice had Sam arching a brow at his friend.

“Where else would he be?” A surge of curiosity flared up inside him. Now that he thought about it, Cas had been asking him about Dean a lot whenever he called to check in. Almost as much as he’d asked about Jack, “Yeah, and do you know what’s up with him lately? I swear he’s acting just as weird as you are.”

Oh now  _ that _ was a blush.

“It’s nothing, I just...was asking…” Cas skimmed a hand along one of the books lying out, gaze fixed on anything but Sam’s face.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the angel. “That’s total crap, man. I know everything is weird with Jack, but Dean’s been operating on a whole ‘nother level of conflict-avoidance. Seriously, what’s going on?”

The angel sighed, “It’s not my place.”

“What’s not your place?”

“I think you should speak to him about this.”

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair, “Can you at least tell me if this has something to do with Jack?”

Cas hesitated.

“...Yes and no.”

Sam threw his head back in a humorless laugh. His chest felt like a hollow cavity.

“Alright...I’m gonna go make a sandwich or something. See ya.”

He turned on his heel much the same way Jack had and headed for the kitchen. Jesus, what was it with them and storming out of rooms lately anyways?

Once he was out of the angel’s view he slumped against the concrete wall of the hallway and took a deep breath. Well, he had no clue what was up with the angel and his brother, but he knew a blonde headed Nephilim who deserved some answers. Answers Sam should’ve just sacked-up and provided him with days ago. Better late than never, he guessed.

But he was definitely gonna need that drink first.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


Jack was sprawled out on his bed and staring at the ceiling...again. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes and left itchy trails in their wake. He felt just as hopeless and confused as he had four days earlier, except even more so now that he’d seen Castiel. He just--he didn’t understand! He’d hoped everything would be better--even if it wasn’t fixed--when Cas came home. What more would it take before his father could look him in the eyes again? He meant what he said. He loved his father so much it was starting to hurt. He only wished Cas had meant what he’d said that night they’d had the sex.

It had been nearly an hour since he’d made his escape from the library, and after twenty minutes of furious pacing, he’d finally settled onto his bed. His tears had steadily flowed ever since.

A few soft taps to his closed door startled Jack from the crack in consciousness he’d fallen into.

“Come in?” he called.

Jack had never been so excited to see the wide width of Sam’s flannel-covered shoulders consuming his doorway. He brushed his eyes quickly and smiled genuinely up at the younger Winchester. It was his Sam.

“Heya, Jack,” Sam said. 

“Sam,” Jack sighed.

That sadness was lacing the man’s eyes still but Jack could hardly be bothered to care. Sam was  _ here _ . And he could tell instantly from the way the hunter leaned against the doorframe that he wasn’t just checking in to see if Jack had eaten, “Alright if I come in?”

Jack nodded and happily scooted over toward the end, leaving a large enough but cozy space between himself and the pillows for him to sit. There was a soft sway in Sam’s step as he walked to the bed, a looseness to his limbs that one would hardly notice if they didn’t see him everyday. When he plopped down onto the bed, his torso seemed to swish in place and Jack put a hand on his bicep when the hunter swayed way into his space. He felt warm under the soft overshirt. Jack liked the way Sam’s muscles flexed under his palm. 

A strand of hair fell to the front of Sam’s face and, to Jack’s surprise, the hunter tried to blow it out of his way. There was a tanginess to Sam’s breath that Jack recognized but wasn’t quite sure from where. Jack softly smiled and took pity on the big man, tucking the unruly strand behind Sam’s ear. The goofy smile Sam rewarded him with gave Jack the first spark of true happiness he’d had in days.

“Thanks, buddy,” Sam beamed.

“You're welcome, Sam,” Jack beamed back.

He had nearly forgotten about Cas and Dean and the past week when Sam’s face suddenly dropped and he blinked at Jack.

“You were crying. Why were you crying?” He asked.

Jack looked down at where his hands were clasped on his lap. He shrugged. Surely Sam knew why he was crying. Perhaps Sam was confused like he was, too. He’d never considered that.

“I don’t know why Cas won’t talk to me,” Jack sniffed, “but I don’t think he loves me anymore like he said he did.” 

Sam inhaled sharply.

“You--” Jack’s attention snapped up when he heard the crack in Sam’s voice. The younger Winchester’s eyes were rimmed in red and a flush had taken over his face, “You think Cas doesn’t love you anymore?”

Jack blinked back his own tears as fresh ones seemed to burst from Sam’s eyes. What...what was going on? Jack felt his eyebrows climb his forehead. He’d never seen Sam cry. Not the hundreds of times he’d gotten hurt or even when they’d watched Old Yeller get sick and then be put down. So why was he crying now?

“Sam? Are you alri--?” Jack began but his breath rushed out of him when large, soft arms folded him up in a tight hug. He was squished into the younger Winchester’s chest and would’ve gladly died of suffocation if it meant Sam kept holding him. One of Sam’s giant hands cupped the back of his head and the boy nestled his face into the crook of Sam’s neck. New tears spilled out of Jack as relief and love swirled around him like a whirlpool. His own shaky arms wrapped around Sam’s trunk, hands fisting in the fabric. God, he hadn’t felt this good since Castiel had held him. It was almost like he’d been falling for days and somebody finally caught him just before he hit the ground and shattered into tiny pieces.

“He loves you, Jack. Cas loves you so, so, so much!” Sam sniffed, his fingers were awkwardly knotted in Jack’s hair but the boy couldn’t find a tiny part of him that cared, “Dean loves you! And  _ I _ love you, Jack! I love you  _ soooo  _ much!”

Jack felt like he was melting into a puddle in Sam’s arms.

“‘Ove you, too, S’m. ‘Ove you, too,” Jack mumbled over and over again into the muffling flannel on Sam’s collarbone. And he did. He  _ really _ did. His arms squeezed the bigger man even tighter.

The roaring in Jack’s head settled for a moment. Sam had nuzzled his stubbly cheek against Jack’s temple and warm puffs of breath tickled his ear. The hunter was rocking them slightly, a natural push-pull rhythm that felt real and living between them. Jack’s eyes fluttered shut and he could feel and hear Sam’s heartbeat where his other ear rested on Sam’s pulse point. He slowly let his hands relax the vice-like grip he had on the man’s shirt. He traced his fingers up and down where Sam’s spine was under his layers. He wondered what it’d be like to feel the heat of Sam’s bare skin under his palms. Probably wonderful.

“There ya go,” Sam muttered, “It’s all good now.”

Jack wanted every second of this moment to sink into his skin, wear it like an extra layer of armor wherever he went. But he also wanted Sam to hold him like this all the time so maybe he wouldn’t have to feel like he needed armor all the time.

“Sam?”

The fingers at the back of his hair untangled, but the cup of Sam’s hand continued to cradle his skull as they leaned back enough to look at one another. Sam’s eyes weren't red anymore, just a glimmering hazel that had something warm and delicious creeping across Jack’s ribs. Sam was smiling at him like there weren't a million things he could hate about Jack, even though Jack knew there were. Or maybe Sam saw all those things, but didn’t care. Maybe Sam just loved him anyway. Jack liked that thought even more.

He glanced down at the plush lips forming Sam’s sweet smile. They looked soft and warm like every other part of the younger Winchester. Without giving it much conscious thought, Jack’s hand drifted up between them and his thumb slid across Sam’s bottom lip. It was as soft as it looked. Sam’s smile fell away into something looser and stunned.

Though Jack had only had that one, short kiss to gauge anything by, he’d been reliving it over and over again for the past week. He’d thought of all the things that made it amazing and all the things that would’ve made it even more so. But Jack was fairly certain that  _ any  _ way he kissed Sam would feel like the  _ best _ way.

His hand slid to Sam’s jaw, fingers scratching against the rough grain of stubble. The sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Before he could lose his nerve or Sam could decide he wasn’t worth the effort, Jack leaned in and dissolved the gap between them. He tilted his head ever so slightly and finally pressed his lips to Sam’s. It was light, airy, and nothing like his first kiss had been. It was a brush over skin, really, but it felt like so much more. Though there were no sparkles or electric zaps lighting up between them, Jack felt like he was floating, only anchored to the Earth by the grounding arms around him.

When Jack drew away to look at the hunter, Sam’s eyes were closed and his whole face was slack and held a slight flush.

Sam’s eyes snapped open when he seemed to register that the kissing had come to a stop.

“J-Jack?” Sam rasped, tangy breath brushing Jack’s cheeks. Jack smiled at him.

The hunter’s grip went rigid and wide dark eyes darted all across Jack’s face like his brain was still taking in information at a snail’s pace, “Buddy, we can’t--”

Jack moved in to place another soft kiss at the corner of the man’s mouth. Then another on his cheek, and another on his jaw. No one made sense, but this feeling--the way Sam’s body felt all around him-- _ that _ made sense. Just like it had when he’d fallen asleep tucked up against Cas’s body. 

Everything was all slow and easy like syrup and made Jack think of pastel colors. He pressed a deeper kiss to the very center of Sam’s lips and felt the pressure of Sam mouthing back. His skin started to tingle. He hadn’t tried this before.

Jack gasped at the stunning sensation of Sam’s lips moving against his own. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, where he was going, or where he even wanted to go but the floaty feeling was only getting stronger and Jack was chasing it like a kite. His hands slid around Sam’s torso, gliding from his taut back to the bunched fabric over his chest. They slid up even further to thread into long, chocolate-colored hair. Jack felt so small compared to Sam. He always did, but for some reason the size difference made his stomach do somersaults. He felt worthy of protection, like a teddy bear or something made of glass. 

Jack felt a moan tumble from his lips and into Sam’s mouth when he discovered a new trick: if he licked Sam’s bottom lip, Sam opened his mouth on instinct. Jack crushed them closer, tongue exploring and mapping out the hunter’s soft, pliant mouth.

He felt Sam shift against him and big hands moved from his back to his upper arms, clamping down on Jack’s biceps and suddenly pried them apart. A sharp exhale sputtered from both of them when the wet click of their separation hit the air. Why had they stopped? Why had Sam pulled away? Jack’s chest felt cold now that there was space between them.

“Sam--?”

Sam was shaking his head and manhandling Jack’s upper body even farther away from his own,“Can’t, Jack--it’s--the  _ fuck _ is wrong with me…” His words were somewhat slurred and his eyes were looking anywhere but Jack’s face. Sheer panic had Jack’s flesh breaking out into goosebumps. 

_ No, no, no _ ...not Sam too.

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


What was he doing? Seriously, what the  _ hell  _ was he doing? His hazy brain may have been a little slow on the uptake but as the taste and feel of Jack’s lips on his started to register Sam’s whole body felt like it’d been dumped in ice water.

He was  _ kissing _ Jack, for chrissake!

It took all of his power not to just shove Jack to the ground to put as much distance between them as possible. Instead his hands seized the boy’s small shoulders and tore him away. Jack was panting and flushed, his eyes dark and half lidded and hungry when they finally seemed to refocus on Sam’s. A roll of nausea swept through him that had little to do with the screwdrivers he’d pounded back in the kitchen. He wanted to feel guilty but, honestly, there’d been so much guilt and hurt feelings ripping through the Bunker like a tornado for the last week that it was hard to find the energy to keep up. He’d feel like shit later, right then dewy blue eyes were looking up at him expectantly.

“Sam--?” Jack’s voice was rough and low and sounded exactly like the screams that had echoed down the hall while Cas was ‘curing’ him, or the breathy moans that had reverberated off the bathroom walls and had hung in the air like the shower’s steam.

“Can’t, Jack--it’s--the  _ fuck _ is wrong with me…” Sam sputtered, and his eyes fell to the floor as he tried to think of something at least slightly more intelligible than that. He bit his lip and tried to wade through the muddy waters of his head. Why in the hell had he thought it’d be a good idea to drink before this?

A whimper pulled his attention back to the boy who had started shaking under his palms.

“I-I’m sorry, Sam,” Jack’s eyes were wide and terrified. His bottom lip quivered and a tear slipped down his soft cheek. He didn’t seem to even notice.

Sam’s ribs squeezed and he felt like a total asshole. This wasn’t Jack’s fault. This wasn’t Jack’s fault at all. The kid didn’t know jackshit about why this was wrong because nobody had bothered to tell him. Because  _ Sam _ hadn’t bothered to tell him. They’d all been ignoring the poor kid and so it was no wonder Jack had latched onto the first little olive branch he received. No this wasn’t Jack’s fault, this was their fault.

“Jack, listen--”

Jack’s shoulders slumped forward and his arms wrapped around himself. He hung his head like he was about to have the shit beaten out of him. He couldn’t possibly think Sam was gonna be angry with him, right? Let alone hurt him. Jack started sniffling, hands clenching and unclenching like he was trying to claw his way into an even tighter ball.

“Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave,” Jack murmured, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sam was gathering up Jack’s smaller frame into his arms and pulling him right back against his chest before he could give it a second thought. Jack curled even closer into himself. Sam’s stomach did a heart-broken flop. Jack didn’t trust this. He probably thought he was seconds from getting pushed away again. Sam wanted to kick his own ass.

“Hey, hey, buddy, I’m not mad,” Sam cupped the back of Jack’s head again, keeping his voice low and calm in a way he hoped was soothing, “I’m really sorry Cas and and Dean and I have been such douchebags. Dammit--you didn’t deserve that.”

Jack whimpered into Sam’s t-shirt and he felt the fabric growing wet against his shoulder. He squeezed Jack in closer.

“I--I just don’t  _ understand _ ,” Jack murmured, a wet gulp popping in the air.

Sam rubbed the boy’s back. Jack shifted and bent to Sam’s movements like putty.

“I know, kid,” he scrunched the hand he had in Jack’s hair and nuzzled his cheek against the soft strands, “I think it’s time for a family meeting.”

  
  


^^^^^^

  
  


Sam rubbed his palms over his eye sockets until he saw little pops of white light behind his lids. He took another sip of coffee.

At the library table in front of him, Castiel and Dean sat in chairs facing him while Jack had pulled one chair up to the end cap so he was looking down the long expanse of the wooden surface. It was hard to believe it was only a week ago they’d been huddled around this same table with an out-of-his-mind Jack, frantically looking for a cure that didn’t exist. It felt like forever ago which was kinda strange, but he supposed they were all in a pretty different place than they had been. Pretty crappy different place, too.

Fuck all if it hadn’t been like pulling teeth to convince Cas to sit down for a second, then wrangle his brooding brother out of solitude, all while trying to reassure Jack that,  _ no _ , Sam was  _ still _ not mad at him. At least that--and half a pot of coffee--had cleared Sam’s mind some more. He still felt the traces of fog edging his thoughts but, if anything, being a little less inhibited might make this not as much of a headache. For him, at least.

Dean clasped his hands and unclasped them, trying to make the little glances he gave towards Cas inconspicuous. They were not.

Castiel was seated like a statue with his hands clasped in his lap, his shoulders drawn in and his head bowed shamefully. The way his lowered eyes darted about was more than enough to give away his nerves.

Then there was Jack. He sat similarly to Cas with his shoulders tight and his hands in his lap. But, like Dean, he was trying to steal secret glances at Cas and occasionally Dean. His frown deepened each time neither met his eye.

Sam sighed, squinching his tired eyes--he was sooo gonna sleep clear through to the afternoon after his house was in order. He set his mug back down and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” he began, “We shoulda had this talk days ago but we didn’t. And, in light of recent events--” Jack’s eyes went wide and scared so Sam patted the boy’s shoulder in as reassuring a way as he could while still a little tipsy, “I think it’s not something we can put off anymore.”

Dean scoffed. His jaw clenched but kept in any further comments when Sam shot him his most don’t-fuck-with-me-right-now-Dean glare.

“Sam, I really don’t think this is the time--” Cas started, eyes finally glancing up to meet him.

“Yes, Cas. It is. I’m sorry, but--” he directed his words toward the rest, “we got a whole load of crap going right now. I mean, for starters, something is obviously up between you guys,” Sam looked pointedly between the angel and his brother. Castiel lowered his eyes impossibly further and Dean’s cheeks pinkened, “Ignoring each other is only making shit worse. You two need to figure it out, okay? I have no freakin’ clue what exactly it is that’s going--but  _ deal with it _ .”

Cas rubbed at the fine hairs at the nape of his neck and shyly glanced in Dean’s direction. Dean crossed his own arms and glared at some unsuspecting mark on the wall off to the side.

Sam groaned. Maybe he needed a different approach--

Jack furrowed his brows, “Is this about them kissing all the time?”

Cas’s entire face went pale as his eyes darted to Jack and Dean nearly jumped out of his seat, eyes like moons as he gaped at the kid. Sam was positive his own face didn’t look much more composed.

“ _ W-What? _ ” Sam stuttered.

Jack’s eyebrows had shot up his forehead as he took in the wide open faces gaping at him

“What the hell, kid?!” Dean finally snapped, both Sam and Cas shot stone cold glares his direction. Dean shifted in his chair and looked rightfully humbled, “I mean...you don’t just  _ share _ crap like that, okay? That’s--y’know, private stuff.”

Sam felt a tidal wave of bits and pieces of memories flood his mind’s eye--quick touches, Dean keeping Cas’s coat, those long fucking staring contests they randomly had--and it all started to make sense. He’d known his brother was into dudes, whether Dean admitted it or not, but this was next level information. 

Dean and  _ Cas _ . 

Cas and  _ Dean _ .

“Little late for that,” Sam huffed, though one of his cheeks was already twitching up into a shadow of a smirk, “So how long’s this been going on?”

Dean scrubbed his hands over his face, his green eyes pensive and closed off like an animal who’s been backed into a corner when he finally looked up. His arms crossed back over his chest, “Why the fuck do you care?”

Sam felt a little stab in his chest at the words and an even sharper feeling in his stomach at the anxious twinge in his brother’s voice. Did Dean...what--did he think Sam was gonna get mad at him? Was his brother that dense to think Sam would freak out about him having a boyfriend or something?

“I’m your brother, Dean. Of course I care,” Dean’s shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly and some of the tightness left his cheeks, “Seriously, how long have you guys, y’know, been a thing?”

Dean’s arms fell to his chair sides and he glanced at the angel, “A few months. I dunno. We’ve never really...talked about it. Certainly didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

The older Winchester’s eyes slid to Jack who’s scared face had morphed into something that was more confused than concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, head slightly tilted. He turned his gaze to Sam,“ I thought you knew? I didn’t suspect it was a secret, Dean and Cas are cosmically bonded--is kissing not normal for soulmates?”

“Soulmates?” Dean squeaked, eyes fixing on the side of Cas’s face. The angel was looking at his lap.

“I’ve been meaning to bring it up…” Cas sighed.

“Wait--” Sam held up his hand, squishy mind still trying to pick up all the pieces, “Why are you guys ignoring each other then?”

Castiel shifted in his seat and fixed Sam with a resigned expression, “I believe that would be my doing.”

“Huh?” Sam raised a brow.

“After everything…” Cas glanced at Jack, “I needed some time to think.”

“So you friggin’ dodge my calls, huh?” Dean asked through a clenched jaw, “What? Eight days and you can’t answer one text to tell me you’re alright? I was  _ worried _ about your stupid ass, man.”

The angel’s gaze fell to the hunter and Sam felt like he and Jack were witnessing something  _ way _ more intimate than kissing.

“I checked in with Sam--”

“Not the kinda worried I meant, Cas. I just…” Dean finally seemed to notice two other sets of eyes were on him. He gulped, “Like I said, I was worried after everything.”

Cas, however, seemed to be entirely ignoring Sam and Jack’s presence. A soft, goddamn  _ adoring _ look Sam had seen on the angel’s face a million times before suddenly had a whole new meaning. How had he missed this?

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said. His hand reached out and folded over Dean’s forearm, his thumb tracing small circles of Dean’s flannel cuff. His brother squirmed, glancing between Sam and Jack but did not move away from the angel’s touch, “I shouldn’t have isolated myself from you like that. I  _ was _ being a ‘stupid ass’. I know you care and worry deeply and it was wrong of me to not be considerate of that fact. I was...ashamed and I didn’t want to face you with that shame.”

“Cas,” Dean sighed. It was in a softer voice than Sam could remember hearing from his brother in a long time that the older Winchester said, “Dude, you did what you had to do. And you know I’ve got your back--no matter what. Alright? Just...I can’t take it when you just go all radio silence on me like that, okay?”

Castiel’s hand slid down the hunter’s forearm, intertwining their fingers and squeezing, releasing Dean’s hand before he could get too embarrassed. Dean’s cheeks and neck were a rosy color. He was looking at where his fingers fidgeted together, biting his lips but not entirely concealing the small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Sam watched the whole thing in awe, only blinking and shaking his fuzzy head when he realized the air was drenched in silence.

“Um...alright, then,” he ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember what he’d been saying fifteen minutes and a kinda-surprising/kinda-not revelation ago, “If that’s all taken care of...we got a few other issues we gotta figure out.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, Sammy, I’ve had enough touchy-feely crap for one day--”

“This isn’t about you, Dean,” Sam snapped. He took another sip of his lukewarm mug, “Well, I mean it’s about all of us...but mainly about Jack.  _ For _ Jack.”

Jack sat a little straighter in his chair when Sam, Dean, and Cas’s attention all fell on him.

“Sam--” Cas started, shoulders already starting to hike back up.

“Jack thinks you don’t love him anymore,” Sam met the angel’s eye, “When I went to go talk to him after you came home...he was crying, Cas. You promised me you’d talk about this with him--so talk.”

Cas’s shoulders slumped in a heartbeat and rounded, stormy-blue eyes turned to Jack. For once, it was Jack who was not meeting Cas’s’s gaze, “Jack? Is that true...” Cas whispered, “do you think I no longer love you?”

Jack shrugged but Sam saw the kid’s Adam’s apple start to bob, “You said, after we had the sex, that there was nothing I could do to make you love me any less. But I must’ve done something, or else you’d be talking to me. And you’re not. But you won’t tell me what I did wrong or how to make you love me again and I...I don’t understand.”

“  _ Oh, Jack  _ ,” Castiel’s whole body had reoriented in his chair to face the kid. He was trying to meet Jack’s eye, but the boy continued to stare down at a knot in the wood of the table, “I am  _ so sorry _ , my son. It was never my intention to make you feel like any of this was your fault, because it absolutely was not. You did  _ nothing  _ wrong and I--I can’t even begin to express how much I love and care for you, Jack.”

“Then…” Jack finally glanced up at the angel and Sam could see the boy’s eyes were misty and could hear the control slipping from his voice, “why did you ignore me?”

Castiel sighed, his own eyes were starting to go somewhat red.

“Because I was ashamed. Guilty. I-I’d harmed you, Jack. In an irreversible way and...every time I look at you it reminds me of my failure.”

“But  _ how _ did you fail me, Cas,” Jack leaned in, staring down the angel.

“What I did to you is...I made you experience something that you could not consent to and should never be shared between a parent and their child. I failed you by not being able to protect you--even from myself.”

“Cas, come on…” Dean murmured.

“But having the sex with you broke the curse. And it felt really,  _ really _ good,” Sam saw and felt the collective wince between him, Dean, and Cas though Jack didn’t seem to, “You saved me. There is nothing for you to feel guilt or shame for.”

“He’s right, Cas,” Sam added.

“Yeah, bud,” it was Dean’s turn to pat the angel’s forearm, “It was a shit situation but you did what needed to be done to save the kid’s freakin’  _ life _ .”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Cas,” Sam’s lips softly kicked up at the corner, “But none of us blame you for it. You get that, right?”

The angel was still visibly tensed, but a shadow of a smile crooked his mouth and he nodded at the younger Winchester and then the older. 

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured. Dean gave the angel’s arm a squeeze before releasing it.

“We’re telling the truth, buddy,” Dean said, catching the angel’s gaze for a long minute, “May take awhile, but I know you’ll come around.”

Something in Sam’s chest fluttered. God, he’d never ever seen Dean like this--it was fucking surreal.

Jack rustled in his seat, all three sets of eyes fell on him.

“I still don’t understand why you felt guilt in the first place,” Jack’s brows were in a deep furrow and his frustration radiated off of him in waves, “Is this all  _ only _ because, in order to break the curse, I had to penetrate you?”

Sam felt his stomach roll and his coffee threaten to rise back up. Castiel flinched and looked down at the table. For a moment, Sam was sure that the whole conversation would end up a total loss and Cas would go right back to being a brick wall--but then the angel cleared his throat and met Jack’s curious concern head on.

“Yes, Jack,” Cas said.

“But it felt--incredible,” Jack said, a breathy lilt to his voice, “How is that anything to feel bad about?”

“The act of sex is not an inherently bad thing,” Cas sighed, “Between two consenting adults it can actually be a good thing and even has the potential to create new life between certain partners.”

“So that’s where babies come from?” Jack asked, a new sparkle in his eye at the prospect and a tiny awed smile quirking his lips.

“Yes,” Cas had a matching twinkle in his eye at the sight of Jack’s innocent amazement. It  _ was _ pretty insane and amazing when one thought about what it took to make a whole other being.

Then a cloud passed over the angel’s features, “But, sexual intimacy isn’t supposed to happen between a someone and their parental figure--”

Jack’s squinting eyes shot up to Sam, “Is that why you pulled away when I kissed you, Sam?”

Now it was the younger Winchester who felt the weight of three gazes boring into him.

“Uh, yeah, buddy,” Sam mumbled. Castiel’s eyes was growing darker by the second and so Sam quickly added with a shrug, “That was kinda the ‘recent event’ that made me call this meeting.”

The angel’s face seemed to cool down at that but there were a few embers of righteous fury that Sam suspected would need a few minutes to burn out.

Beside Cas, Dean snorted. With a raised, prideful eyebrow he looked at the kid, “You are kind of a slut, aren’t ya?”

“Dean!” Castiel’s head spun to glare daggers into Dean. The hunter’s smirk dissolved and he held up his hands in surrender.

Jack patted Cas’s shoulder reassuringly until the angel looked at him, “No, it’s okay. He’s correct--I am.”

The angel blinked twice, opening his mouth without a word coming out. His jaw snapped shut again and he looked to Sam as if he were wrapped up in angel-proof yarn and needed help getting the whole thing untangled. Sam rolled his eyes but pushed through regardless. There was no way in Hell he was repeating all that xxxvideo.com crap again.

“Anyway,” Sam sighed, “Jack, the important thing to know is that we love you. All three of us. But the kissing and touching and stuff like that--we’re not going to do that with you.”

Jack’s shoulders drooped and soft, sad eyes met his, “But it felt really good. I felt so... _ loved _ .”

“Jack, you are loved regardless,” Cas said, and he pulled the boy into a hug with his head hooked over Jack’s shoulder. Sam beamed. Finally.

“Can we at least hug like this more?” he heard Jack murmur, the boy’s face tucked in the slope of the angel’s shoulder.

Cas chuckled and pulled back, “Yes, Jack,” the angel smoothed down a flyaway hair at the crown of the boy’s head and then leaned back into his own chair, “That sounds like a good compromise.”

Dean laughed, “And, hey, someday when you’re a little older, maybe you can find a girl your own age to...do that with if that’s still something you wanna--”

“Can they be another male instead? I don’t think I’d be interested in sharing sexual intimacy with a girl.”

“Oh, uh...well, I guess--” Dean stammered. An awkward little smile twitched at his lip, “I mean, if that’s what you’re into...sure?”

“Absolutely,” Sam nodded, eyeing his brother and his best friend. Maybe the nephilim would find his own loving, emotionally constipated hunter one day.

Sam took his first real deep breath in days and swallowed down the last dregs of his coffee.

  
  


**\- Fin -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading whether you're following up from the initial two chapters I posted or reading the whole thing through in one go!!  
> I'd love to hear from you in the comments if you are so inclined <3

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was darker than most of my other stuff, but thank you so much for reading. A always kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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